


For Your Love

by dreadlockholiday



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Crushes, Discussion of Abortion, Donuts, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Jealous Steve Rogers, Knotting, Light Angst, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Omega Bucky Barnes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Steve Rogers, Rimming, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Scenting, Science Nerd Bucky Barnes, Shrunkyclunks, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Stucky - Freeform, Top Steve Rogers, Twink Bucky Barnes, Unplanned Pregnancy, but Bucky Barnes is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23145436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadlockholiday/pseuds/dreadlockholiday
Summary: When Bucky gets the chance to prove himself at a science exposition, a very disguised Tony Stark sets his eye on him and immediately recruits Bucky to work with his team.Little does Bucky know it's just the start of his life adventure, between the misfortunes of being socially inferior and falling in love with none other than Captain America, will Bucky learn to stand for himself and know what's really worth fighting for?Will Bucky follow his heart and do what makes him happy?_Or, where Bucky is a twink of an Omega who would've never thought Captain America was gonna set his eyes on him
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 155
Kudos: 583





	1. Chapter 1

"Where do you think pigeons come from?"

"I don't know."

"No but... if you think about it, pigeons are just... there. I wanna know where they come from."

"Peter, don't distract me now."

"Yeah sorry..."

For a good thirty seconds there's utter silence in the room, except for the buzzing sound of wires being weld together and metal tools clinking.

"I've never seen a baby pigeon..."

"Peter–"

"But what if they appear, like, from nowhere at all?! Like– like they're already born big?! That's awesome, dude!"

"I don't know, Peter!" Bucky whines as he tinkers with the wires of a tiny robot. "Ask Sam about pigeons, I don't know anything about them..."

A huff of air leaves Peter's mouth before he goes back to silently operate on his own piece of work.

Bucky sighs in relief, finally cherishing a moment of quiet where he can concentrate enough to try to fix the little problem that occurred to his high-tech micro-robot.

He has to fix this before Mr. Stark comes back, dammit, or he's not just going to make a bad impression, but Mr. Stark could also kick him out of this project if it's his bad day.

OK, maybe that'd be a bit too much, although there are some very specific characteristics about the man that Bucky really can't stand, but hey, can he complain now? Absolutely no.

He thinks about the day he decided this would be a fun idea, which was merely two weeks ago, when he hastily agreed to an internship with Tony fucking Stark and his Industries. It was an opportunity he couldn't miss, to be frank, and he found himself beyond proud of something about him for the first time in his life, that something being the title of best student of the year at MIT.

He didn't care about all the hate and sideways glares he was going to get for it. What can a sophomore, nerdy Omega with a ridiculous nickname expect from getting the first place above a hundred other students, far more handsome and richer than him?

Bucky didn't have a lot of friends, and with this he knew he was bound to make himself new enemies, but was he going to give up this opportunity -- one that could make his career shoot up towards the stars -- for primitive intolerance in the college hallways?

Hell no; besides, he met Peter along the way, and the guy is just a cutie, funny and kind, even though he's a little annoying sometimes. They work together, spending hours every week in Stark's lab, in this little paradise for nerds.

"Bucky?"

Bucky closes his eyes and inhales a deep breath before replying.

"Yes, Peter?"

"Do you th–"

"Please, for the love of God, if it's about pigeons I'm gonna kill you." Bucky grits out.

Before Peter can even word out a response, his phone rings obnoxiously in his pocket. His eyes widen when he takes it out and glances at the screen. "Shit! Shit shit shit!"

Bucky's brow furrows as he watches Peter scramble to pick up all his stuff in record time. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fucking late! Ups I said a bad word sorry– May is gonna kill me!"

And then, in a span of ten seconds, he's out. And Bucky finds himself alone one more time, staring dumbfounded at the glass door where Peter has just disappeared.

"He's so weird..." He mutters to himself, before he turns back around, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at his lifeless robot on the table.

He gets back to work, humming a tune while disassembling the tiny metal plates of his creation, revealing a bundle of burned and broken wires.

"There you are, you little shit." Bucky whispers with a relieved grin, screwdriver and nipper in hand before he gets to it, hoping to fix this in time before Mr. Stark comes back.

❉ ❉ ❉

Half an hour passes and Bucky's still alone in the lab. He's starting to get frustrated; why can't Mr. Stark be on time just for once?

At least he managed to fix his robot, which is now working perfectly as Bucky sends it flying across the space with a tablet remote. He smiles proudly at his first creation at Stark Industries. He can't wait to tell his sister about it.

Right now, Sonda-0.1 is nothing more than a prototype of a probe for infiltrating missions. Disc shaped, it's just a bit larger than a coin, but even in that small, microscopic space it hides thousands of information and data, a tiny camera and a GPS.

Bucky still doesn't know how he made it, to be honest. He came up with this great idea a mere year ago, after binge watching too many sci-fi shows and rotting on his old couch, but hey, at least something good came out of it. He was just lucky that Mr. Stark happened to be in the right place that day and to somehow notice him at the science exposition where he was presenting his project.

He thought that the call was a sort of stupid prank, but when Iron Man himself took the phone and spoke to him, Bucky almost fainted.

The clock marks  _ 3:38 pm _ . Bucky huffs in frustration once more as he watches the robot silently wander through the room, challenging it to fit into the smallest spaces and do weird stunts and twirls.

It's fun, and soon Bucky is lost in his little childish mind, piloting Sonda like it's his personal spaceship and making tiny  _ 'vroom' _ and  _ 'pew pew _ ' sounds, giggling and laughing all along just like he did when him and his dad used to play Star Wars all those years ago.

Of course, Bucky would always pretend to be Luke Skywalker, racing around the house with his dad chasing after him every Sunday morning. He misses those days. God, he missed his childhood so much.

Bucky still plays Luke Skywalker's. His dad may not be here with him anymore, but at least now he has his own custom 'spaceship', which he knows his father would be extremely proud of.

He rarely gets to live those old memories again, but today he finally has the chance, has the opportunity to be a kid once more without anyone judging him.

He laughs excitedly, freeing the child in him that was dormant until now, and he feels so happy, so fulfilled. Giggles accompany his little ridiculous play, and Bucky's about to recite his favourite Skywalker's quote, end the scene with a great finale, when suddenly, the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind him interrupts his magic moment.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Blue screen.

That's what Bucky's mind can be described as right now, as he stares with the most horrified, mortified expression at the person in front of him.

He doesn't even remember how to breathe, how to properly _function_ , because this is definitely the most embarrassing and humiliating moment of his miserable little life.

Of all the people in this godforsaken world that could have stepped into the room right now– in the precise instant Bucky was acting like a five-year old with a stupid robot– it had to be Captain America?

Bucky wants to die.

He's waiting for the ground to open under his feet and swallow him whole, erase him from the universe, from existence. The seconds tick agonizingly slow, and Bucky realises that it's probably not gonna happen.

Instead, he's just embarrassing himself more and more like this.

 _Stop staring! Stop staring!_ he thinks, _Say something! No, don't say anything!_

"Hi?" Finally, Captain America breaks the ridiculous silence. He's sporting a lopsided smile, as if trying to stifle his laughter, which tells Bucky that he pretty much saw everything– oh God he saw everything, _oh God, oh God, oh God._

His face is on fire under the scrutiny of a pair of blue, piercing eyes, his hands are shaking where they're still holding the tablet, and it's just pure luck that the system deactivated in time, otherwise his little robot would be flying like crazy around the room.

Bucky can't stop staring, frozen in place and gaping like a dumbfounded badger, and he's sure that he should say something, just _do_ something like a normal human being, but his brain is just filled with static and the sound of his dying brain cells. 

He tries to remember his answer when Sam asked him what he would do if he met his celebrity crush, because that's just what he needs right now, just _something_.

"Are you okay?" The blond asks again, a hint of concern painting his traits as he takes a careful step forward.

Apparently the action is all Bucky needs to break out of his trance, and then he's blushing even more, his gaze shifting from the floor tiles to Captain America's chest and shoulders and his–

"I... uhm y-yeah, I'm– uhm... y-you're, uh... you are..."

A grin breaks onto the other's face. "Captain America?" He says with a raised eyebrow. He probably gets this a lot, Bucky thinks.

The blond nods with that cute, crooked smile that makes him way too hot to be legal, before he steps forward and holds out his hand to shake. "Call me Steve, please."

Bucky cringes internally when his clammy hand meets Steve's huge one. "I'm– I'm J- Bucky." He squeaks out, staring wide eyed up at the supersoldier. Heart hammering in his chest and ears burning red, he half expects his alarm clock to ring at any moment and wake him up from this crazy dream.

He, a nerdy, irrelevant little Omega with ugly glasses, is face to face with Captain America, a man that made history and represents a whole country.

He, Bucky Barnes, is shaking Steve Roger's hand and sharing his sweaty embarrassment, blushing and babbling like an idiot that's talking to his crush for the first time.

He _is_ technically doing that. Come on, who doesn't have a crush on Steve Rogers?

Bucky almost winces as he remembers the posters of him that he used to keep in his room as a teenager (and still does), and all the fantasies, innocent and not, that he let himself have (and still does).

And of course Steve has to be an Alpha. The most perfect Alpha ever. Everybody's dream Alpha, strong, sexy, handsome, smells good.

Oh, does he _smell good_. Bucky realises just now how entrancing and addictive his scent is, strong and sweet and he just wants to bury his face into Steve's–

"Bucky, are you sure you're okay?"

Bucky's hand whips away from where it's still holding Steve's. Was he really shaking his hand all this time?

"Yes, yes I am... sorry uh... God, this is so embarrassing..." He mumbles as he takes off his glasses, before he covers his red face with his hand. "...H-how much did you see?"

From behind his fingers he sees Steve lean against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, an amused smirk on his face. "I'd say not enough."

Bucky just blushes harder and whines, unable to meet the other's gaze.

"C'mon, it was cute." Steve chuckles and steps forward. "Besides, you got a pretty cool toy there."

Bucky watches Steve get closer until he's standing right next to him. "Did you make this?" He hesitantly reaches for the little robot that's now laying on the table, and takes it delicately in his huge hand.

"Uh yeah... I did."

Steve glances at the object and then at Bucky, an amazed look in his eyes. "Wow that's so cool... what does it do?"

Bucky's heart eases a little at the sight of this dorky side of Captain America. He expected him to be a stoic, serious man, always perfectly composed and exclusively formal. But the twinkle in Steve's eyes as he examines the little robot, the excitement in his voice are so adorable and... human.

"It's um... a probe." Bucky unlocks the tablet to show Steve all the commands and functions, eager to talk anything about science to someone.

"It's mainly meant for infiltrating missions... well at least that's what I was thinking about when I designed it... I-I found this algorithm one day, it's really cool, and then I started creating this system based on um... _beehives geometry_. And then I managed to squeeze all of it in this small space, which is barely noticeable when flying around, also because it's completely silent and is moved by electromagnetic fields and it's really cool because it also contains two micro-cameras that project both the front and the rear view on this tablet where I have the control panels and–" Bucky stops when he finds Steve staring at him with a confused, fond smile, and then it dawns on him that he probably didn't understand anything of what he said.

"Sorry... I'm rambling."

"It's okay." Steve chuckles, stepping closer to Bucky's side. "I didn't understand anything, but this is amazing... you're really passionate about it, it's adorable." He finishes, his eyes fixated on Bucky's.

Bucky blushes deep red at the comment, and it's only then that he realises how close they're standing.

Steve is so tall compared to him, 6'2" of muscular body towering over Bucky's smaller one, and suddenly he feels so vulnerable, but the closeness of Steve brings an odd, buzzy comfort to him.

He can feel the heat radiating from Steve's body, his smell more intense and so pleasantly good... Bucky takes in a deep, shuddering breath, and in turn he inhales more of Steve's scent. It sends Bucky's head spinning, his heart rate picking up. His own glands inevitably release a surge of excited pheromones, and he can see the exact moment Steve notices the change, the instant he smells it and his blue irises get a shade darker.

Bucky doesn't know what's happening, he just wants to run away and escape from this situation but his legs don't move. Instead, he just keeps staring at Steve's face, noticing how handsome he is, how blue his–

"Hey, Bucky! Sorry, am I la–" Tony stops dead in his tracks, breaking the two from their daze. "Steve? Hi, Frozen, what are you doing here?"

Steve clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, withdrawing from a red-faced Bucky. Tony steps further into the lab, getting closer to the two of them with a nonchalant grin on his face, when suddenly his expression changes, a confused, suspicious frown moulding his features as his feet come to a stop once again.

 _Oh shit_ , Bucky thinks, because he knows the reason why he pulls that face.

"Steve. What exactly are you doing here?" He repeats, eyes furious, glued to Steve's.

"I was– I just came here to talk to you and..." Steve trails off, and Bucky notices how flushed he is, too. "...and I met Bucky!" Steve smiles cheekily, pointing at the young Omega with his thumb.

Tony doesn't seem to buy it, and he glares even more at the Alpha. "Steve. Come with me." He points behind himself with a nudge of his head. "Bucky, you go back to work."

"Yes Mr. Stark." Bucky hurriedly obeys, and turns back around, his face burning and his heart banging in his chest.

What's just happened? Why did Steve have this effect on him? Is he... attracted to Steve?

No, no, no, _stop_.

He hears them move to a far corner of the lab, and then Tony is hissing something at the Alpha.

Bucky's not supposed to hear, but still, some snippets of the conversation reach his ears with enough clarity for him to understand what they're saying. And he really wishes he was deaf right now.

_"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"_

_"I was just looking for you and I came here–"_

_"Steve, why the hell does it smell like... like you want to jump my student!?"_

Bucky's eyes widen upon hearing that. Steve wasn't going to... he didn't want something like that... or did he?

_"I didn't do anything! We just talked!"_

_"Rogers, if you do something to Bucky I'm gonna chop your dick off!"_

_"I– what? I didn't even touch him! I wouldn't do anything to him!"_

_"You better not. Now, why did you come here..."_

Bucky stops listening at some point, his mind overcrowded with confusing thoughts.

Steve seemed kind and nice... he's not like other Alphas, is he? He wouldn't do anything to Bucky, right?

Head full of doubts, Bucky tries to focus onto something to do while Mr. Stark talks to Steve, but that feeling, that attraction he felt towards the Alpha can't seem to get out of his mind.

The way he smelled... the colour of his eyes... the way he looked at Bucky.

He called his passion _adorable_.

Bucky groans and buries his face in his hands, his heart doing a flip in his chest as those words replay inside his head.

What the hell's going on?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering, Bucky is 5'4 feet tall, so he's very smol, a twink if you will c:


	3. Chapter 3

"Dude, you gotta calm down."

"I am calm." Bucky sighs as he bends down to tie his shoelaces.

"And I am Queen Elizabeth." His roommate rolls his eyes, leaning on the kitchen counter. "You're trembling, Bucky, that doesn't look very calm to me."

Bucky stops his movements to look at his hands, and indeed, they are shaking like leaves, his skin vibrating with nerves just like it always does when he's anxious.

A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he stands back on his feet, grabs his jacket from the hanger and checks his hair one last time in the mirror on the wall. It's tied into a small ponytail, just like everyday, but today there's something wrong with it. It just doesn't feel right, and it's driving him crazy.

"Ugh, why does it look so shitty today?" He whines as he unties it for the hundredth time this morning, and begins to fix it again.

"That's just how it looks everyday."

"Thanks, Sam, you're a real friend, aren't you."

"Yup, the best one." Sam chuckles and steps closer until he's face to face with Bucky. "Seriously though, you have to relax, okay? It's gonna be fine, I know that, you're gonna be great."

"I don't know..."

"Bucky, you're literally the only person who can pull this off, and if Stark can't see that, then he's a stupid idiot."

Sam pulls the Omega into a comforting hug, "And if he doesn't, he'll have to face Sam Wilson's rage, 'cause I swear, I'm gonna beat his ass with a broomstick."

Bucky lets out a small laugh at that, tightening his arms around his best friend. "Yeah, he better not test his luck, huh?"

"Damn right."

* * *

Despite the January morning cold, Bucky's palms are sweating as he fumbles with his pass card and shows it to the guard standing in front of the building's entrance.

It's been almost three weeks since the start of his internship at the Avengers Tower, but the security guards still don't remember his face well enough to let him in without any fuss.

Mainly because there's a different guard almost every time.

The tall, brown haired guy looks at the card, then gives Bucky a slow, shameless once-over, making the Omega cringe with a dirty sensation in his stomach, before he lets him in with a quick nod of his head.

Bucky gets this a lot, but he's probably never gonna get used to it. He should know by now that the majority of Alphas think only with their dick as soon as they see an Omega, but it still makes him feel like he's worth nothing more than a miserable toy.

He wonders if someday he'll find an Alpha that doesn't care just for what he's got between his legs.

The brunet easily spots Peter sitting on one of the large armchairs in the vaste lobby of the Tower, looking at his phone with a grin on his face.

He's probably texting MJ, Bucky thinks as he loosens the scarf around his neck.

"Hey, Pete."

Peter's head lifts. "Hey, man! You alright?"

"Mh... yeah." Bucky mutters as they head towards the elevator. "I'm just a bit nervous, I guess."

"Hey, I'm sure it's gonna be alright." Peter pats his shoulder and smiles at him. "Mr. Stark really likes you and I know he's gonna love your work, it's amazing!"

Bucky presses the button for the wanted floor after they step inside the elevator. "I don't know... maybe it's not even that great after all..."

"Bucky." Peter is serious now, "If Mr. Stark chose you above all the other people that day, there's a reason. And I know," He says confidently, "That Mr. Stark is very proud of you. He told me."

Bucky's blue eyes light up at that, and he looks at Peter with excitement and hope written all over his face.

"Really?"

"Of course, man! C'mon, don't overthink this, you'll make it."

Bucky sure hopes he will. Even though he's a bit more confident about all of this now after what Peter said, he can't help but let the _what if_ 's creep into his thoughts.

Yes, it's true that he must be really good to have Tony Stark choose him as a possible addition to his team, but one never knows, right? Maybe he's not good enough, maybe his work will reveal itself utterly disappointing and after the end of the internship, Mr. Stark will send him home and never contact him again.

But overthinking won't take him anywhere, and Bucky knows that. All he can do is chew on his nail and wait a bit longer, just hold on and hope that a year's worth of hard work and sleepless nights will have its positive outcomes.

It's not really about Stark approving his robot, he's pretty confident that somehow that one will be put to good use. It's about what's coming next. The internship lasts only three months, but Bucky really hopes that something bigger will come after it.

Maybe he'll become part of Stark's team, maybe he'll find other great opportunities with other great companies, or maybe he'll end up working at a Starbucks for the rest of his life.

Bucky doesn't know, but one thing he's learned to do over the years is to fight for his goals with all he's got. There's just so much he lost and still so much to lose, he can't just throw his talent and potential down the hill after the first difficulties.

Besides, if he gets to be part of Stark Industries' scientists, then he can consider himself pretty lucky, right? It's not a thing for anyone, after all, and just the fact that he's made it until here makes Bucky extremely happy with himself.

With these thoughts in mind, he and Peter finally step out of the elevator, entering the large corridor on the 45th floor and looking for Mr. Stark between all the people rushing past them.

He can do this.

 _Just breathe_ , he thinks, _just breathe and be confident and everything will be fine._

But Bucky is a small bundle of anxiety that needs just a little spark to explode and shatter all over, so when he spots Mr. Stark talking to none other than Captain America, all the previous confidence that he'd built up flies shamefully out of the window.

 _Shit_. Why today?

Standing tall in all his glory, blue shirt perfectly hugging his muscular chest and shoulders, Steve is attentively listening to something Tony's talking about.

Bucky suddenly feels the urge to run, just run and hide himself from any additional embarrassing episodes. The humiliating events of two days ago still replay inside his head with painful punctuality, he really doesn't need anymore of them.

"Peter, can we–"

" _Bucky?_ " That deep, unmistakable voice cuts off any of his attempts to avoid this situation.

Bucky gulps, blood already racing towards his face. He wants to run away so bad, but Steve Rogers just called his name, he actually fucking _recognised him_ , and Bucky can't back away.

He reluctantly follows Peter as they approach the two superheroes, stomach twisting with anxiety and heart thumping in his chest.

 _Stop acting stupid,_ he repeats in his mind, _sober up._

Wait, why is he so nervous anyway? It's not like he has a crush on Steve or something.

"Hey." Steve's voice is soft and a bit hushed, as if he's trying to let Bucky be the only one to hear it.

He's gazing down at him, something sweet sparkling in his smile that makes the Omega's belly flutter with butterflies.

Bucky can't stop a smile of his own from curling on his lips. "Hi." He replies, and suddenly all his anxiety seems to fade, shooed away by an odd, limpid comfort that Steve's presence radiates.

"Big day today, huh?"

Hands in pockets, the blond beams down at Bucky's puzzled expression. "Tony told me he can't wait to test your little robot today."

"Oh... right, yeah." Bucky chuckles, cheeks pink. Why would Tony talk about him to Steve? Unless Steve asked... "Yeah I hope it goes well, but I don't know..."

"Hey, c'mon, you're actually doubting this?"

Bucky gives a small shrug, his eyes following his feet as they walk a few steps behind Tony and Peter. "I guess... maybe a little. One can never know with Tony."

"Okay, I have to agree with you on that one." Steve's chuckle fills Bucky's chest with something incredibly warm, his strong scent makes his mind fog just a tad bit. "I'm terribly stupid when it comes to technology and stuff, but even _I_ know that what you did is absolutely genius, so..."

 _What a flatterer_ , Bucky thinks, knowing damn well that Steve's far from being stupid, but the compliment still makes him blush. "Thanks..." He mumbles before looking up at the Alpha.

Their gazes lock and linger for a few long seconds, and Bucky feels his heart stutter in his chest. The air is suddenly electric between them, charged with tension and sparkles and Bucky feels it all the way down in his belly. 

Steve is the first one to break the contact, clearing his throat and looking down at the ground with a too cute flush covering his pale skin.

A small smile tugs at Bucky's lips, relishing the thought of being the one to cause Steve to blush.

It's a sight too pretty for him to handle. Alphas rarely blush and get shy around Omegas, their usually confident and cocky manners taking over their demeanor.

But Steve isn't like that. He wasn't two days ago and he's not now, and Bucky wonders if it's even possible for a man like Captain America to be like this, completely different from his public image.

Steve is sweet and kind, and it's not hard to smell it on him that he has such a gentle way with people. He's so adorable for such a big guy, and Bucky wonders how it would feel to be hugged by those– no, _stop it._

"You know..." Steve suddenly leans closer until he can whisper in Bucky's ear, making a shiver trail down his spine, "I'm pretty sure you're even smarter than Tony."

Bucky's eyes widen, and he tries to ignore the tingly warmth spreading in his belly, emitting an awkward chuckle and shaking his head. "I'm not even close to being that amazing."

"Yeah, because you're way more than that." Steve winks at him, and Bucky swears that this is the moment he dies.

Did Steve Rogers just flirt with him?

Once again, they get lost in each other's eyes, and Bucky's afraid that this time he might not be able to tear his gaze away from Steve's blue one, if it weren't for a blonde woman coming up to the Alpha and interrupting their trance.

"Captain Rogers, Mr. Reed has arrived for the meeting."

"Thank you, Susan, I'll be there in a minute." Steve replies promptly before the woman walks away, followed by the clicking of her heels.

His attention returns to Bucky, who totally wasn't checking Steve out while he wasn't looking, and once again, that bright smile comes back on his face.

"So..." Steve trails off, looking a bit sad, hands in pockets and eyes to the floor, "I guess this is my cue to go."

Something twists in Bucky's chest upon hearing that, and it's only then that he realises how much he likes being in Steve's presence, how easy it is to talk to him and have a good time. Not to mention how strikingly hot and beautiful he is, and again, he smells so so good.

"Okay... um..."

"Tell me how it goes with Stark, yeah?"

Bucky laughs a little but nods nonetheless. "I will."

The playful smirk on the blond's face subsides to a soft, fond one. "It was really nice to talk to you Bucky." Steve admits genuinely.

Bucky struggles to fight his own smile from stretching too much on his lips "You too."

Steve's face lightens up so beautifully upon hearing that, Bucky thinks it shouldn't be legal for Steve to have this effect on him.

"I'll see you around then?" The blond inquiries with a hint of hope, a faint pink tinting his cheeks.

Heart racing, Bucky beams and nods, obviously, because who is he to deny himself another encounter with Steve?

"Yeah sure." He says, watching Steve withdraw backwards towards the elevator, facing Bucky like he can't bring himself to turn around.

"Bye, Buck." Steve salutes and winks, making the Omega blush so stupidly once more.

 _Why is he like this_ , Bucky thinks, smiling at the sight of the supersoldier. "Bye, Steve."

He stands there for a full minute afterwards, watching Steve turn around and disappear behind the elevator's doors.

A heavy, dreamy sigh escapes his lips once he's out of sight, thinking about Steve's blue eyes, his sharp jawline, his strong arms and fair skin.

"Someone has a cruuush!"

"Peter!" Bucky almost jumps out of his skin. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Blatantly ignoring what Peter just said, Bucky starts to walk away and hide the embarrassing way his face is burning red.

Peter just chuckles and shrugs, following suit. "So, wanna tell me about Steve?"

"I don't have anything to tell you about Steve."

Bucky's glare doesn't affect the other though, "Oh you don't? Well I do." Peter grins when Bucky's head curiously perks up.

"He totally likes you too."

"I hate you." Bucky grumbles and stomps away, Peter's laughter coming from behind and filling his ears.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

So many things to do, so little time.

Even if it's finally Friday and he can go home and relax, his stress levels have really peaked today.

Tony kept him in the lab for at least half an hour more, because apparently he's one of those people who just can't stop talking for some odd reason, and now he's running late, racing through the Tower halls and slaloming between people as best as he can.

He has to buy Sam's birthday present, he has to pick the books he ordered from the bookstore and he has to give Sharon a lift to the gym. All that in the next hour, possibly.

If this Tower just wasn't so huge he would have already been in the car on his way to Sharon's shop. He hates driving. Or, specifically, he hates driving in New York, because the traffic is so overwhelming and dense that it's nearly impossible to get anywhere on time. Today is one of those rare days he decided to go to work by car, and it just had to be today that he's late everywhere.

Finally,  _ finally _ , he sees the elevators at the end of the long hall. Just a few dozens of people left to dodge and run through, and he'll be there.

He picks up his pace, mindful of where he puts his feet and of his heavy backpack that's swinging dangerously as he runs.

Just a few more steps, come on,  _ come on! _ The elevator's doors are still open, he can make it.

He glances at the watch on his wrist to check the time, just to make sure how fast he'll have to drive, and–  **Bam!**

Of course he bumps into someone, that's just his luck, only this time Bucky's pretty sure that whatever he hit is more likely to be a brick wall rather than a person. He tumbles back, loses his balance and lands hard on his bum, wincing as a wave of pain spreads in some indefinite part of his body.

"Ow..."

"Oh my God, Bucky, are you okay?" It's Steve. Of fucking course it's Steve. "I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He mutters, before Steve takes his hand and gently lifts him up on his feet. And wow, he does that so easily, it's like Bucky weighs nothing at all to him.

"Are you sure?"

No, he's not, 'cause his butt hurts something dull and Steve's arm is securely placed around his waist now, which is just–  _ ugh _ . He blushes furiously upon realising the closeness of Steve, although he does nothing to break apart, cherishing the brief moment in which he can savour the warmth and scent of the blond's body.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I didn't see you." He smiles at the Alpha, and it's just then that Bucky takes a good look at him. And oh, he's dressed in his full Captain America gear. Strapped in a harness that makes his shoulder look impossibly wider, Steve is wearing a tight, navy blue suit, just like the ones he's seen him wearing on TV or magazines.

Now though, he can see it in person, and it's even more breathtaking. He never thought it would look this amazing in real life.

Wow, Bucky thinks, trying to will his metaphorical boner away and feeling a fluttering sensation starting to stir in his belly. He can't stop staring, can't choose which part of Steve to look at.

"No, I'm sorry." Steve says with eyes still full of concern "I should have seen you coming. You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"No, no I didn't. Um... I'm alright." Bucky can smell the distress and anxiety on Steve, who is looking at him with guilt written all over his face. He wants to erase that frown from his face, make it all better again.

"Okay... sorry again." Steve smiles bashfully and retracts his hand, much to Bucky's discontent.

"It's alright." Bucky chuckles nervously, "Um... you're going on a mission?"

He points out Steve's uniform and eyes his body up and down, to which the blond actually blushes, an adorable pink spreading over his pale skin.

"I just came back actually." He says, running a hand through his blond, messy hair, before his eyes light up as if he suddenly remembers something. "Oh, how did Tony like your um... thing?"

Right, that. Steve did ask him to let him know after all, but Bucky surely wasn't expecting him to actually remember.

"I guess he liked it." Bucky smiles wide and shrugs. "He said some words like terrific, extraordinary, avantgarde... so I guess he liked it pretty much."

"Yeah? I had no doubt. You did an amazing job."

Steve's comment is genuine and full of sincerity, and Bucky's heart skips a beat at the compliment "Thanks."

For a brief moment he ponders on telling Steve that he's 87% got a guaranteed place at the Tower even after the internship is over, but he quickly discards the thought, not wanting to feel like he's bragging too much. Besides, judging by how much Steve is informed about all of this, Bucky thinks that he might already know it.

The silence between them swells quickly and becomes almost unbearable as Steve watches him. His eyes flicker down to Bucky's lips for a brief moment, but it's enough for the Omega to notice the movement. He quickly turns his face to hide the hot blush on his cheeks, trying to find the floor tiles somehow more interesting than Steve.

"Uhm... would..." Steve breaks the silence, and Bucky notices how nervous he looks all of a sudden, wringing his hands and diverting his eyes, "...would you like to go for a coffee? Or something...? If-if you want?"

He looks at Bucky at last, his face is holding hope, so much hope, and Bucky feels the air stop in his lungs upon hearing those words. Steve is... asking him out? Like on a date?

No it can't be. Who is he for Steve Rogers to take out on a date? He's as irrelevant as a white crayon in a pencil case.

And he's running late. Shit, he's late and he even dared stop to talk to Steve? What is he doing? Sharon is gonna cut his throat later.

"Uhm, no I can't, sorry." He suddenly blurts out before he can even stop himself.

Steve's face falls "Oh... okay..."

Why must he look so hurt? Bucky doesn't want to hurt Steve, dammit. He gets a sudden urge to run away, 'cause his anxiety is starting to kick in dangerously and he doesn't know what to do.

"I-I have to go. Bye."

And just like that, he races past Steve, catching a whiff of his entrancing scent on the way that almost makes him turn around and agree to that coffee date, or whatever it is.

Bucky steps into the elevator without looking back once, and when the doors close, he finally lets out the breath he's been holding. His head thumps back against the wall and he sighs heavily, his hand rubbing his face frenetically.

It's pure luck he's alone in the elevator, because he's pretty sure he looks like he just raced a mile, heart banging in his chest and face burning red.

He could have certainly found a better way to decline that offer, instead of running away and making it seem like he doesn't want to be around Steve at all, when on the contrary there's nothing he desires more.

He could have, for example, just said yes and have gone with it.

But hey, he's not the best at making impressions on people, especially on his crushes.

What? No he doesn't have a crush on Steve. He doesn't now and he never will.

_ Forget that, forget him _ , Bucky repeats in his mind, but it's a futile attempt to convince himself of something that's not real, and deep down he knows it, and he fears it so much.

How is he gonna look at Steve after this one? Everything was going so smooth between them, and now he just made it terribly awkward. He's such an idiot, and so he decides on the best solution his idiot mind can come up to: avoid Steve at all costs.

Which seems to be harder and harder to do with each day passing. Why is Steve everywhere now? Why does he bump into him so often? It's like the universe three Steve in his life just to make everything more complicated. 

Fuck. He's a mess. He tries to push Steve out of his mind with all his strength, ready to go on with his day, and yet, somehow, he subconsciously knows that the Alpha will find his way into his thoughts again, later, tonight, tomorrow and the days after.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's add a bit of Steve's pov to this cake for a healthy recipe

Rejection hurts.

It stings like a motherfucker even when it shouldn't, but that's how it is sometimes.

The thing is, it's never been like this. Steve has met a shit-ton of people over the course of his long, sad life, has had a fair amount of crushes, big or small, but it's never been like this. Not even with Peggy.

Bucky is just... something else.

It's like he's boldly and sweetly engraved a little space for himself in Steve's heart and doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

The more Steve tries to get him out of his head, the sweet, blue eyed Omega just finds his way into his thoughts again, randomly popping up and striking him like an electric shock any time of the day.

It's maddening.

Especially because Bucky doesn't feel the same way about Steve.

He's thought, at some point, that the Omega reciprocated the obvious interest Steve has in him; he's been almost convinced that the blush on his cheeks and the change in his scent were telltale signs of Bucky liking Steve back. But no.

Any weak hope of having a chance flew away in the exact moment he asked Bucky for a coffee and saw the shift in his expression, the way he turned from smiling to shocked and apologetic in a second, and then the  _ 'no I can't, sorry...' _ , which Steve interpreted as a  _ 'I don't like you, leave me alone forever' _ , crushing Steve to the core.

It's not fair, how much something so apparently insignificant can hurt. He's known Bucky for something like a week? And all of their interactions have been accidental, awkward encounters and damn it, he even knocked Bucky down on the floor. What kind of person does that make him? That was so mortifying.

Bucky probably doesn't even care about his existence, save for the fact that he's Captain America, but that doesn't make any difference.

Fuck.

Here he is, with the hots for a young, intelligent, gorgeous Omega that he doesn't have a fucking chance with.

Maybe Bucky was busy when he said no? He probably was, right? It's hard to find time for a coffee when you're someone like Bucky. What does Steve know about Bucky after all? Nothing, except that he's a stunning little genius and loves Star Wars. And wears really cute glasses. And smells incredibly sweet. And it makes Steve  _ dizzy _ . 

Steve's a sad, sorry bastard that jumps to conclusions like he jumps parachute-less from planes, and Bucky's a whole world of mystery and beauty that Steve wants to discover and worship and love and–

"Hello? Earth to Steve?"

Steve flinches. Blinking, he turns his head towards Natasha, who is staring at him from the opposite couch, giving him the Look which Steve knows means only trouble.

"Huh?"

"What's on your mind, big guy?"

Steve's face gets all red, he can feel it, because how is he going to admit that he was thinking about a beautiful, amazing boy and all the possible yet implausible scenarios that could happen between them? Simple, he's not.

"Nothin'"

Natasha's smirking behind her cocktail, one manicured eyebrow lifted meaning that she's not buying anything of what Steve's bullshitting. The Alpha's skin becomes pins and needles under the scrutiny, and he can try all he wants to look nonchalant and hide the truth, but lying to Natasha Romanoff has always been a battle lost at the start.

"Yeah, totally looks like it." She chuckles, "You've been zoning out since you sat down, Rogers."

"I'm just tired, is all."

The initial embarrassment subsides to the frustration building hot in his chest, his fists clenching over his lap where he's splayed on the couch.

Natasha won't let up, he knows that, and boy does he hate it now.

"You? Tired? That's new, Steve." Sipping her drink obnoxiously, the redhead's stare feels like a thousand nails probing at his skin. "If you were tired you'd be in bed. There's something else, care to share?"

Jesus Christ. Okay, he needs to take a deep, grounding breath for this one.

"Am I not allowed to think and zone out these days?" His voice doesn't waver like he's afraid it would, and that's only a little bit comforting. Natasha's smug face doesn't crumble either.

Huffing, Steve turns his attention back to the TV. There's irritation and anger itching under his skin, he feels wound up and pissed and embarrassed for letting just one Omega fuck up his confidence and balance like this.

Like, what the fuck? Why is Bucky doing this to him?

Thankfully, Natasha leaves it at that, and Steve mentally fist bumps the air in relief. At least she's not making this harder than it already is, thank fuck.

He tries to calm down, clear his mind of all these thoughts and put on a serious, controlled face, but half of his mind just keeps on going about Bucky.  _ Bucky, Bucky, Bucky _ .

Steve can still faintly remember his sweet scent, indulging in its memory carved into his brain. He's just so irresistible, so many things at the same time that make Steve go crazy with want, the desire to hear his voice, to look into his grey eyes, to card his fingers into his soft, brown locks. He wants to cradle him gently in his arms, to take him out on romantic dates and give him flowers, to see him laugh and smile every day, to feel him squirm and writhe underneath him as Steve takes him, makes him his, listens to Bucky's sweet, desperate moans as he fucks him and–  _ God _ .

The boy is gonna be the death of him.

"Who is it?"

Steve is knowingly an extreme pacifist, but sometimes the word  _ murder  _ pops up on his to do list, and yeah, he thinks it's just fair in moments like this one. He swallows down his homicidal urges, but if looks could kill, Natasha'd be dust and bones right now.

"What?" He grumbles, sneering at the amused smirk she's sporting.

"Who got you all flustered, Steve?"

Oh. Steve becomes terribly aware of the heat in his cheeks, his neck, his chest, his everything and–

"What!? What're you talking about?"

If the way his voice goes thirteen octaves higher makes him cringe and go seven shades redder, well he definitely pretends like he doesn't notice that. He'll beat himself over it later.

"Oh, Steve." Natasha laughs, a tight, derisive sound that makes a boiling shame swell in his chest. "Are you in love? 'Cause it totally doesn't look like you are."

"Because I'm not." He says.  _ How the fuck can you figure me out so easy? _ he thinks.

Seriously though, he's not in love. That's... that's just a lot, but somewhere deep in his stupid brain Steve knows that he could fall for Bucky like a shooting star. He'd just need a push, a little glance and a few words and he'd be fucked up.

He knows that and he hates that.

"Then why's that stupid little smile on your face?" Natasha teases, "Look at you, you're blushing."

"I'm not smiling." Steve mutters. "And 'm not blushin'"

But Steve is blushing, he's red like a tomato and he can't seem to stop it. He could run away, like a normal person facing terrible embarrassment would, but Steve Rogers ain't a quitter, so he stays firm and rigid in his position, bum rooted on the couch, red in the face but stubborn in the head, ready to deny obvious little truths.

"You've been coming to the Tower a lot lately..." Natasha says matter-of-factly. "Who's the lucky gal, huh?"

"There's no gal, Nat, stop being–"

"Sorry, my bad, who's the lucky pal then?"

Steve's heart is beating like a kick drum in his ears. It feels like those moments when he's running away from something in his nightmares. It feels... it almost feels like he's lost in a deep web, trying to escape the spider that got him in its clutch, and he has no way out but to surrender, give in and accept–

_ "Bucky." _

The word rings through the air like gelid thunder, leaving utter, desertic silence behind, and Steve looks at Natasha with wide, terrified eyes, because he's certainly the most surprised one of the two.

Surprised, because the word didn't come out of his mouth.

Their heads snap towards the direction of the voice, and there he is, Tony being Tony, pouring brown alcohol into a glass.

"His name is Bucky Barnes." He shrugs nonchalantly, leaning against the bar countertop like he didn't just give Steve a stroke. "Cute twink, long hair, almost as genius as me, right?" 

"Huh." Natasha turns to look at Steve, her arms crossed over her chest. "Would you look at that? Bucky Barnes is the lucky pal then."

"I..."

Steve is at a loss of words. He's pretty sure he looks either as white as a corpse or as red as a pepper, wide eyes and mouth gaping as he follows Tony's movements until he's behind the couch Natasha's sitting on, leaning on the back of it.

He feels judged, two pairs of eyes burning his skin and peeling layer after layer like he's an orange, revealing every raw secret he has in his heart.

"Aww he's so cute. I've never seen Steve blush." Natasha mumbles. It's directed to Tony or maybe even just to herself, but Steve hears it and it definitely strikes a nerve.

"I'm not blushing." But it's a weak, useless statement that does nothing more than humour him. "And I don't like Bucky."

"Nobody said you like Bucky."

Shit. Seriously, Steve needs better friends.

"You've been giving him bedroom eyes for a week, Steve." Tony's smirk is only half serious. "Think nobody would notice?"

Sighing, Steve shakes his head in defeat and runs his hands over his face, hoping to wash the redness away. "He's cute, okay? Don't blame me."

"Not blaming you." Tony shrugs, "But he's also twenty and as far as I know that's a bit young for you grandpa."

Oh. So Bucky's twenty. Steve knew he's pretty young, but he didn't think he would be  _ that _ young. Steve is biologically still in his twenties, barely, but it still doesn't sit right. On the other hand though, it makes Steve want Bucky more and more, want to protect him and love him and cherish his fresh, untouched youth and juvenile beauty.

Maybe that's what turned Bucky off though. Maybe he just isn't into older guys? Fuck, that sucks.

"I... I didn't know."

"Well Steve's twenty nine..." Natasha speaks up, and Steve is surprised to find any traces of mockery gone from her face. "He's not that much older. I mean, not counting the time spent in the ice. Just because he's 101 doesn't mean he has to date old ladies."

"I'm not saying that." Tony raises his hands in defence. "Just... I don't know Steve. Take it easy."

"It's fine." Steve waves a hand in the air, and it's cold, blue sadness that's pooling in his chest now. "I... I may have already asked him out. But he said no so… he doesn't like me. It doesn't matter."

After a minute of silence Steve looks up to find their eyes still on him, amused and witty. "What?"

They both shrug with the same shoulder like they're perfectly in sync, and it's funny to see how similar and yet so different the two Betas are.

"Nothing." Tony says. "I'm sure he had his reasons. But you being an emotionally constipated and totally crappy at flirting Alpha definitely isn't one of them. He most definitely has the hots for you too."

"And cut that defeated look from your face, Steve." Natasha smiles softly. "You look like a beaten puppy, but we all know that you're not giving up just because he said no once. You're too stubborn for that."

Pouting, Steve shrugs and looks at the floor. It's true. He's not one to give up that easy, but it's one thing during a mission, and another in matters of love. He can't just beat the fact that Bucky doesn't like him out of  _ Bucky _ . Or maybe he can? Not literally, of course, but if Steve turns his flirting game up a notch, maybe he'll hit the target?

Fuck it, it's worth a shot. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not saying shit's about to go down, but that's what I'm saying
> 
> Not too down though <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: attempt at rape/non-con, not between Steve and Bucky. See the end notes where what happens is explained briefly if you want to know what happens beforehand.

**Number one:** Bucky hates Thursdays.

Because Thursdays mean a full day scheduled in the physics lab, and it's not that Bucky doesn't like physics, it's just that it's an entire, _long fucking day_ , when he'd rather spend it in the robotics lab doing the actual cool stuff.

So, Thursday. 

If Thursdays had a taste it would be something boring like celery or soap, and Bucky definitely dislikes those. They're disgusting.

 **Number two:** Bucky hates Sam Wilson.

Because Sam Wilson may be his best friend since childhood and yadda yadda, but the guy is a fucking asshole with a gap in his teeth, and apparently one of his favourite hobbies is waking his roommate up at the crack of dawn with his compulsive need to bake cookies _very loudly_ in the kitchen.

So there went Bucky's good morning, which was never bound to be good in the first place. It could never be with this cold, rainy January weather. It's shitty. The sky is grey and dark from dusk till dawn these days, and it makes him just a tad bit sad and blue. He misses the sun, the warmth and his cuddly cat. 

Cuddles. What a dream. If he could just sneak out and do a magic trick with a snap of his fingers, teleport himself in Steve's lap– **No.** We said to forget about him. 

Bucky's alone in the lab this afternoon, thank God. He doesn't have the energy to be around people, doesn't have the nerves to deal with anybody's shit, barely his own, so at least there's that. Tony abandoned him a while ago, saying that no one's supposed to bother him until the end of his shift, and that is just an absolute win.

However, despite the sweet promise of peaceful loneliness and freedom in a totally empty physics lab, the elevator doors slide open with the same annoying sound, and Bucky curses under his breath. He's really not ready to face anyone today. He doesn't even bother moving from his position, cheek squished against his palm on the desk. Bucky doesn't give a damn about who it is, he's moody and therefore superior. 

But then he smells it.

The strong, unfamiliar scent of an Alpha fills the space around him, and Bucky freezes, his spine going rigid and tense like a bowstring. 

When Bucky turns around, a brown haired guy is standing by the door. He must be at least 6' feet tall, broad shouldered and muscly, but lean. Bucky's pretty sure he works at the Tower. He can recall seeing him in the hallways regularly on his journeys between labs and elevators.

"Can I help you?" Bucky's voice wavers, his insides churning with an ugly feeling.

"Actually yeah..." The brunet steps forward, holding up a device in his hand. "I was hoping you could help me fix something... I don't know a lot about technology, so I thought about asking someone here." 

Gulping, Bucky tries to keep his anxiety at bay, to push all the negative thoughts out of his head. The guy's just asking for some help, so let's calm the fuck down. 

"Sure." He says after taking a deep, grounding breath. "I-I can try."

A grin breaks onto the other's face. "Great" He says, and steps closer into Bucky's space, holding a tablet out, "It's my StarkPad... I don't know what happened, I just can't turn it on anymore but I really need it for work."

Bucky takes the device warily, eyeing the guy with a frown. "Okay" He nods, "I'll um... see what I can do." 

"Thank you."

He half expects the Alpha to go away after that, but to his dismay his presence keeps looming at his side, along with the unreadable, upsetting smirk he's sporting. His scent is strong, too strong. It's the typical smell of an Alpha around an Omega, and Bucky's used to it (hates it, but he's used to it), but this guy's scent is just... dizzying. And not in a good way, but not in a bad one either. It's odd, but Bucky just can't put his finger on it. 

Somewhere deep in the chambers of his brain there's a voice telling Bucky that the guy shouldn't even be allowed here, in one of Stark's private labs, but then again there's a lot Bucky doesn't know about this huge Tower and the people that work in it, so he's not gonna start and make assumptions of any kind. 

Sighing, he tries to focus on his task, pushing the power-on button on the StarkPad to see what's the matter, expecting it to keep being dead and stare back at him with a black screen, but to his surprise, the screen itself lights up like it normally would, a default background wallpaper appearing littered with a few icons here and there. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but he's cut off by a gasp of his own when the guy is suddenly behind him, pressing Bucky against the table and breathing at his neck. 

"What are you–"

"Shh, " The Alpha locks his arms behind his back before Bucky can even think about protesting, "That was easy. You're pretty dumb for being a little genius, aren't you?" 

"What– let me go!" 

It all happens too fast, and before he knows it he's being spun around and slammed against the nearest wall. 

And Bucky sees fucking _red_.

"What the fuck are you doing!" A little breathless from the impact, he still manages a loud snarl that's supposed to be the peak of terrifying, but what he gets in response is just a grin that's all teeth, the guy showing no traces of being scared or even slightly impressed.

"You ugly piece of–" The insult dies on his tongue when he's suddenly pinned to the wall. It all takes less than a second, and before he knows it, his arms are locked above his head and a large body is pressing against his own.

"Get the fuck off me!" Thrashing, Bucky tries to wriggle out of the Alpha's grasp and push him away, growling and hissing loudly, but the guy is strong, too strong for him and he knows it. His grip on Bucky's fragile wrists doesn't even budge no matter how much the Omega kicks around.

"You're so naïve." He chuckles against Bucky's ear, trailing his nose over his jawline and neck, "Look at you, squirming like a good little bitch for me."

And no, this is _so_ not happening. The surge of anger swells impossibly bigger as Bucky fights back and thrashes, but the more he tries, the more he becomes aware of how overpowered he is. And then the anger quickly morphs into something worse. It becomes fear and terror in front of the evidence that he's weaker, smaller and the guy is built like a fucking brickwall and in full horny Alpha mode. 

Bucky starts to panic.

"No! Fuck you!" His arms hurt from pushing and pulling, but he's not giving up. "Get off me!" 

The scent surrounding him is overwhelming, it's everywhere, heavy and revolting and Bucky just wants to puke into the guy's face. 

With a glance to the constricted space between their bodies, he aims a kick to the other's groin with all the force that he can gather. It's the wrong thing to do. The Alpha emits something between a grunt and a yelp but his grip barely falters. And then he growls, the sound deep and sharp and terrifying, making Bucky's blood freeze in his veins. With a look to his face, Bucky sees fire in the guy's eyes and he whimpers. The hold on his wrists tightens so much he's afraid they're gonna snap, while another hand flashes up and wraps around Bucky's throat.

"No! Please stop!" Eyes wide open, Bucky chokes on air and starts squirming and thrashing harder, legs kicking away into the air in a frantic attempt to escape. "Let me go, please!" 

"Shut up!" The guy slams him against the wall again just to prove his point, and then nuzzles Bucky's neck, licking over his glands and preparing the skin for his bite. "You know how long I've been watching you, Omega? Every time you walk by, I have to refrain from taking you on the spot. You're just begging for a knot."

Horror erupts from Bucky's throat in hoarse sobs, tears spilling down his cheeks as he tries to take in oxygen with the hand squeezing his windpipe. The air is too tight around him, his _skin_ is too tight around him. "P-please stop!" Bucky's legs are just scrambling and fluttering around with no force, the guy firmly settled between them, grinding his hips into him. "Please let me go!"

"You're not going anywhere." The Alpha growls proudly when he sees the Omega quickly growing tired, "Not until I fuck you into this wall like you deserve. That's all you're made for, Omega." 

"Stop! Please someone- _mmph_!" 

Bile swells and rises in his stomach when the guy shuts him up with his mouth, jamming his tongue inside while growling possessively from deep in his chest. Bucky can barely fight back like this. He can't move or breathe, all he can do is take it. He cringes away from the disgusting mouth and cries, panting desperately for air. 

Bucky's vision is whitening out with every frantic breath he takes, his skin violated where the guy touches him, kisses him, holds his throat tight and his hands pinned. It feels like he's drowning, the air escaping his lungs with his useless screams and wails. 

Bucky wants to die. He _is_ gonna die. He can't hear anything over the ringing in his ears, can't feel anything other than the fingers squeezing his throat. The pressure lets up and Bucky takes in huge, hungry gulps of air, hoping this is over, but then that hand reaches down to unzip his jeans, pushing to squeeze inside and grab where he's most vulnerable, and Bucky thinks he might pass out. 

"S-stop! No, no!" 

Something snaps inside him when that hand finds its way into his underwear. It feels... Bucky feels everything start to collapse. He's distantly aware of his weak kicks, now reduced to nothing more than pathetic twitches, all of his senses alarmingly focused on the places that maniac touches him, leaving his filthy stains impressed forever in Bucky's skin and mind. 

He's gonna pass out. He's hyperventilating and the oxygen is leaving his lungs too quickly, the darkness is slowly blanketing his vision, black dots appearing in front of his eyes while his now wordless screams tear his guts out. Bucky can't breathe, he starts panicking because there's something wrong and he can't breathe like he wants to, every intake of air painful and tight and just not enough. 

This can't be happening. It's not possible, he has to fight back, but he just _can't_. He can't seem to escape this trap, weak and overpowered and the guy is taking advantage of it, panting in Bucky's ear like a fucking horse and groping him everywhere. 

Oh God. His life is over. What'll happen next? How is he going to live with the shame of being raped, of being knotted by some ugly stranger and left there in his misery? If he even survives, that is. Desperate whimpers and wails are spilling from his lips. Bucky hopes someone hears him, he strains to hear the sounds of anyone coming in to save him but there's nothing. The guy is palming and rubbing him inside his pants and Bucky thinks that this is hell, this is how it feels like. It's mortifying and horrible and there's nothing worse than this.

Then, he's being spun around again, his body out of his skin and easy to toss around and his face is squished against the wall. If he was screaming before, now all the sounds falling from his mouth are cut off. He stops breathing, because he knows what's coming next.

 _Not there, please not there!_ Bucky's screaming but there's no sounds leaving his mouth. His eyes unfocus, his mouth opens in a wordless plea while the guy starts tugging his pants down, and Bucky can't stop him, can't stop this. Every Omega's worst nightmare is becoming true to him. 

Someone screams, but Bucky barely realises it's not him when he's suddenly on the ground. 

There's growling and shouting and crashing around him, voices overlapping while he slumps on the floor like a dead weight. A blur of red swims in front of his eyes, a gentle voice is distantly reaching him, trying to penetrate the deafening ringing in his ears. It's probably an angel, Bucky thinks. He's dead and it's coming to take him away. That's good, he can let go, and before he knows it, everything turns to black.

* * *

When he wakes up, he's laying on something soft and warm. It's probably supposed to be comfortable, but Bucky's body hurts in places he never thought possible. The tendons on his neck are sore and he feels as if he's been punched in his throat with a metal fist. His back cracks when he sits up, and it's like a truck ran over him and crushed his body over and over until he became nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones.

There's a sharp, ugly headache too. 

Bucky looks around with confused, wary eyes, chest heaving and heart racing a mile, before he assesses his surroundings, and it's not with much relief that he finds himself laying on a bed in what looks like a hospital room.

The quick beeping sound of the ECG mixes with the humming of another device in the room. There's a needle disappearing under a white plaster on the top of his right hand, connected to a tube that goes somewhere behind him, but Bucky doesn't bother looking at that. His eyes are glued to his wrists, purple and blue, with the clear imprints of fingers crossing over the skin, and they hurt. The sight makes a tight lump form in his tender throat, somehow crushing all of Bucky's hopes of this not being real, of it being just a horrible nightmare. 

But the evidence is right there in front of his eyes, scattered over his wrists like a signature. The memories roll around in his brain like a cascade of painful stabs, each one of them sending sharp twists in his gut.

Bucky feels disgusting. And he knows he's been lucky, knows it could have gone much worse if he hadn't been saved in time -- whoever even did that -- but that still doesn't change the gravity of what happened. 

His skin is prickling uncomfortably, as if the guy's touches never stopped, are still there, and it makes his body quake with a violent shudder.

Bucky flinches when the door opens, unconsciously bracing himself for something, but his chest deflates with relief when he's greeted by a blonde nurse walking in with a smile on her face.

"Thought you'd be awake." Blonde Nurse tuts somehow proudly, coming up to him in her noisy nurse shoes and lilac nurse clothes. "How are you feeling? Your throat?"

Bucky just blinks at her, follows her movements as she checks the drip. Her scent is stronger now that she's close, and it's nice, she smells something gentle and soft like strawberries. Omega, Bucky thinks, and that's nice.

"Uh–" As he goes to speak, Bucky finds out that his throat indeed hurts like hell and the sound that comes out is choked and raspy, ending in a harsh coughing fit.

It's painful in an odd way, and brings tears to Bucky's eyes, has him gagging. He gladly accepts the glass of water Blonde Nurse offers him and takes big, hungry sips.

"Don't force yourself." She rubs his back softly "You should try to talk as less as possible in the next couple days, alright?"

Bucky nods behind the glass, and just as he's about to take the next sip, the door opens again and in comes a redhead and that's... that's the... "Black Widow?"

The words reach Bucky's ears before he even realises it was him who pronounced them, and then he's blushing in embarrassment, because this is not how he envisioned meeting his second favourite Avenger.

"It's Natasha to you." She seems unfazed by his embarrassment as she gives him a kind, murderous smile. "Feeling alive yet?"

"He seems alright." Blonde Nurse speaks instead as she fills another bag with a transparent liquid. "Just having some trouble speaking like predicted, Ms. Romanoff."

"What's going on?" Bucky whispers, wide eyes staring at the Black Widow as if she were a ghost. 

"You passed out like..." She checks the watch on her wrist, "...fifteen minutes ago. And now you're not passed out anymore."

Bucky doesn't remember passing out, but he does remember not remembering anything all of a sudden, after hearing the angel speaking to him from heaven, so it's probably then that he fainted. But that's not what he asked.

"Uhm... but... why are you here?" 

"I carried you." She shrugs and pokes him with gorgeous, terrifying green eyes, and Bucky's face feels on fire. Because that's not embarrassing at all. Not even a little bit.

"Oh..." 

Thursdays are officially the worst day of the week. There's probably a curse somewhere that says that Bucky is destined to have the shittiest stuff happen to him on Thursdays, something like Friday the 13th, but in the Bucky Barnes version, because... really? First Sam and his delicious stupid cookies, then the rain (it's so wet, ew), then he gets assaulted by some maniac rando and to top it all he has the Black fucking Widow carry him around like a princess? He wishes he didn't know that part, at least. Spare him the humiliation.

"So... you saved me?" He finds himself asking with a proud, excited smile, because it may be a little embarassing, but his friends are gonna fucking riot when he tells them that the Black Widow saved his ass. Sharon is gonna be so jealous.

"No." Is what he receives in response, and Bucky deflates, "Steve did. I just took you to the medical."

And oh. 

Bucky gapes for a long minute as he lets the information sink in. 

So he wasn't saved by his second favourite Avenger, but by his first favourite Avenger? The one called Captain America? The one with the great ass? And the great arms? Brickhouse blondie? The one he has a stupid crush on? 

"Steve?" 

"Mhm." Is all Natasha says, not bothering to look up from a phone she fished out while Bucky was busy staring off into space. 

"Wait–" Bucky's croaky voice comes out stupid and funny, but he's serious now, so he clears his throat again before speaking. "I'm missing something..." 

"Jarvis alerted Tony of what was happening in the lab." Natasha says like she's talking about the weather. "Me and Steve were the closest so we came and he dealt with the guy. That's also when you passed out." 

"Oh..."

"Hold on a sec." Blonde Nurse reminds him of her presence as she grabs his hand and changes the tube attached to the needle.

"So, the windpipe isn't damaged, your throat is just a bit bruised but it's gonna fade completely in a week. Your wrists too." Blonde Nurse says as she prompts him to lay back on the rearranged cushions. "I gave you some painkillers and a little shot to boost your energy, you should feel better soon, okay?" 

"Thanks." Bucky nods, dumbfounded, and only then lets himself realise how tired and exhausted he is. Plopping back into the mattress, Bucky stares at the ceiling and sighs deeply, all the events of the day rolling through his brain. 

Steve saved him. _Steve_. 

Steve was the one that left whatever he was doing and ran all the way to floor 13 to save Bucky from that horrible guy. Steve is an Alpha and he rescued Bucky from another Alpha when he had no reason to. Bucky's not his Omega, they're not mated, and yet, Steve put Bucky first in front of some random Alpha. 

Where does that even happen? In movies and apparently in Bucky's crazy life too. 

Sighing dreamily, Bucky thinks how truly nice Steve is. Like, as a person. Among the other things. He's never met an Alpha like him. Some of them are nice but not _this nice_ , and if it had been someone else, Bucky's pretty sure they would have let that asshole rape Bucky right there and maybe even enjoy the show. 

Bucky shudders at the thought, and wills his thumping heart to calm down and stop swooning over Steve and his heroic, hot actions. 

Holy shit. Steve saved him. He probably beat the shit out of that guy and reduced him to pieces, all for Bucky. 

Which makes him think, why isn't Steve here?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for attempted rape/non-con: Bucky gets cornered in the lab by a random alpha who tries to sexually abuse him. Bucky has a panic attack and faints just as Steve and Natasha come to his rescue and save him. He's taken to the medical ward in the Tower where he's taken care of.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm sorry for being a bit late but uuuh times are hard and I've been busy and a bit distracted. 
> 
> Hope you're all okay, hope you're happy and with the ones you love. I hope this new chapter cheers you up <3

Well, sometimes life is disappointing.

You'd think a guy like Bucky wouldn't even dare complaining about his life. He's terrific at college, he has great hair, his roommate happens to be his best friend, and his best friend also happens to make the best food in the world (seriously, try his chicken curry, the guy is Gordon-Ramsay-level amazing). 

He's obsessed with robotics and gets to do just that everyday now. Not to mention he's an intern at Stark Industries and is looking forward to putting his name among the other Big Badass Engineers of Planet Earth in the future. Honestly, can you imagine little Bucky working side by side with Gods like Elon Musk?!! That'd be bananas. And the fact that he gets to see and talk to Iron Man himself is some huge bananas already. Nice.

Plus he met something like half of the Avengers (!!!) in person, and boy, is he going to brag about it for the rest of his life. He's gonna meet the other superheroes too, just you wait. He'll have them put autographs on his shirts and he'll take selfies with Thor's biceps and post them to every kind of social media every week.

It's gonna be like that one time in fifth grade when he made Timmy Jones jealous because he completed his Pokemon cards collection before him and became a hero among the nerds and very popular among the non nerds at school. Timmy Jones held a grudge for a week, but that was mainly because he lost the bet and had to buy Bucky milkshakes every day for the next month or so. That shit felt good. Plus, Bucky saved the money of the milkshakes and used it to buy the BB-8 Lego set that had been haunting his dreams since like, ever, and that was a double win.

So yeah, Bucky's life is pretty bonkers right now. He wonders if Timmy Jones would be jealous if he knew about Bucky's internship. Probably. Maybe. Hell, half of his college went shit jealous when Bucky got the internship and beat all of those whiny, rich seniors that laughed at him behind his back thinking they had victory secured in their pockets, just because Bucky doesn't swim in money and his family is a _normal_ family and not one descending from Queen Victoria or something. Assholes. One of them even had the audacity to invade Bucky's personal space and say something along the lines of _'My father is Tony Stark's friend and yours is not and you're an Omega which means you're stupid and you'll never get a place there and blah blah_ '. 

Guess what? Now Bucky gets to laugh at them instead while touching Tony Stark's tech with his own hands. He's gonna ask Tony to show him the Iron Man suit one day, and maybe even let him try it. If that's possible. Probably not, but let the boy dream.

Anyway, all things considered, Bucky still has the audacity to be disappointed by his life. Because life isn't perfect, and the reason why is called Steve Rogers.

In the remaining, super boring hour that he had to spend in that medical room at the Tower last Thursday he kind of hoped that the guy would show up at some point. 

He was the one that saved Bucky after all, so he could have come in to check if he was okay. That would have been logical, right? Kiss his wrists better and, why not, his lips too?

But no. It didn't happen. No matter how hard Bucky squeezed his telepathic powers out of his brain in hopes of reaching Steve and waited for the door to open and Captain America to show up with his big biceps and sharp jawline and carry him away into the sunset. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest every time the door opened, waiting for a blond beefcake to appear, but unfortunately, there was no blond beefcake. 

First came a boring doctor that cleared Bucky and prescribed him some medicines and a week long convalescence, and he assured him that he was okay. As if he could assume something like that about Bucky. _He_ was the one that had just been a step away from being raped and choked to death, so he was definitely not okay. And a week long convalescence? That meant a week of staying at home, which meant a week far away from high tech robots and other super duper cool stuff. Dude was out of his mind. 

Then, Tony came in (or rather bursted in) with sweat on his temple and a worried face that Bucky never thought he could make. Tony Stark has only two facial expressions, and they both require the effort of like, thirteen muscles, but this time he was actually concerned about Bucky, it wasn't even funny. Bucky wondered if he had maybe woken up in a different reality where Tony was his dad, because he was certainly acting like one. It made Bucky feel pretty special though. 

After that, the Black Widow sadly left and so did Annoying Doctor and Blonde Nurse. 

Bucky was dying to ask if Steve was gonna pay him a visit anytime soon, possibly before he had to leave and go home, but he stifled his weird urges in favour of not embarrassing himself. That would have been creepy, right? Right. So he decided to shut his mouth and not do it.

In the end, he ended up doing it anyway. He was in one of Stark's unnecessarily expensive cars on his way back home, with Tony himself driving the vehicle, too fast for Bucky's taste. 

Bucky was on the verge of bursting with how much he wanted to know where Steve had gone. He didn't even know why he felt like he needed to know that so much, it's not like he cared about Steve or had a crush on him. Bucky's just curious like that, likes to know why people don't show up in his hospital room after heroically saving him. When that happens to princesses the prince usually comes back for a spectacular kiss and then they live happily ever after in a huge castle with a litter of pups. Bucky doesn't know if he should feel offended for not receiving the same treatment. 

So, he voiced his thoughts hoping to finally get an answer to his concerns. Who knows, maybe Steve got seriously hurt in the midst of fighting that asshole; Alphas' fights are always pretty nasty when it comes to, but Steve is Captain America, he should have been able to break the guy's spine with his pinky. Bucky surely hoped Steve was okay.

Tony looked at Bucky with a blank expression for a minute when he blurted out, "Why didn't Steve come to see me?" Followed by a terrible, hot blush, and wow Barnes, what a way to go.

If Tony noticed how flustered he got, he didn't say anything about it, instead he made Bucky even more confused by saying that Steve had been having issues, _Alpha issues_ , and he couldn't come, before dropping the subject and Bucky at his place and skidding away down the road without saying another word.

So here he is, four days later, cuddled up on the couch with his favourite blanket, the fluffy one with the owlets, still wondering what the hell Tony meant with Alpha issues. 

Alpine has been asleep on his lap for the past fifteen minutes and Bucky's accepted the fact that he's destined to spend the rest of his life here, lest Alpine decides to move. His lap is one step away from combusting, cat and blanket together producing immense warmth that has Bucky almost sweating, but he'll be damned if he shooed the cat away and moved. He can't and he won't, because then Alpine could go to Sam's lap, and Bucky can't have that. He has to prove that Alpine loves him more than Sam, his legit owner, and what other way could he do that if not being a nice, loyal cat throne and silently singing his victory? That'll teach Sam and his sour grapes. 

"Sam?" 

"Hm?" From his spot on the couch next to Bucky, Sam doesn't bother ungluing his eyes from one of those useless shows about monkeys on Animal Planet on the TV.

It's boring as shit, but Bucky lets it slide this time, giving up on his supremacy on the remote. Sam deserves to watch Animal Planet a little bit after treating Bucky like a monarch for the past few days, making him the best food and cakes and whatnot, giving him extra cuddles and letting Bucky put his music all the time. He even bought him donuts everyday, and that alone is marriage worthy. He's been super caring and sweet, even if he would never admit it, being an Alpha and all that pathetic Alpha stuff, but it makes Bucky all happy inside. He loves Sam, he really does, as far as you can love a person like Sam. Okay, maybe he wants to kill him twice a week on the regular, but Sam is Sam and Bucky wouldn't trade him for anyone to be his best friend. 

Although it had been pretty scary when Sam found out about what happened. He completely lost his shit, going fully into angry Alpha mode and that was the last thing Bucky needed in that moment. Sam somehow calmed his tits in the end, and then proceeded to give Bucky what he needed, which was hugs and a shoulder to cry on.

And Bucky cried. A lot. Somehow he had to let everything out after all, but then, after a lot of showers and sleep and doing anything to get distracted from the mess in his head, the tightness in his chest had slowly faded and the memories of what happened were stored into the deep chambers of his brain labeled _'Stuff to forget but that I survived'._

He's been smiling more since yesterday, Sam's jokes finally managing to break a little bit of light into him, but the ugly feelings still pop up randomly. It's mostly shame and an uncomfortable sense of awareness, especially when he glances at the fading bruises on his skin, but it's okay. He made sure that very few people know about what happened. Sam, Sharon and Peter are the only ones he told everything, plus Tony, the Black Widow and, obviously, Steve. He won't tell his mom and sister, they have enough on their minds already, and he'd rather forget this as soon as possible. 

"Tell me." Sam's voice brings him out of his thoughts, and Bucky finds him looking at him with an expectant look and a little bit of concern too.

"What are Alpha issues?" He narrows his eyes and brings his hand to Alpine's soft, white fur.

"Alpha issues?" Sam's expression makes that funny thing where his eyebrows rise and his lips stretch enough to expose the cute gape in his teeth. "Do you charge for specifics? 'Cause I don't know what you mean."

"I dunno." Bucky shrugs, "You're an Alpha, shouldn't you know?"

"Hmmh." Sam's expression furrows in thought, "You remember when that dude Kevin groped Jimmy-K's girl in front of everyone in high school?"

"Dude, of fucking course I do." Bucky shakes his head and chuckles. "That shit was nasty."

"Hell yeah. And you remember how Jimmy-K jumped him and tried to rip his head off?"

"Uh-uh."

"And how the guys had to tackle him so he couldn't kill the other dude right there?"

"Yeah, J-K was feral." Bucky shudders at the memory of the scene. There was blood and screaming and growling. It was terrifying, especially for a young Omega like him.

"And then he tried to snatch his girlfriend and do God knows what to her to claim her or whatsoever."

"Yeah." Bucky gulps, "So?"

"So that's it." Sam shrugs and turns to look at the TV, "Dude lost his mind and his Alpha took control of him. That's what I can think about when you say Alpha issues. Maybe you meant feral?" 

"Oh."

Yeah, oh. Bucky doesn't know what to do with that. Steve lost control over some guy trying to rape Bucky? Did he kill him? God... Is that why he didn't show up at the medical? So that he couldn't hurt Bucky too because he had gone feral?

He wouldn't have done that, Bucky's sure of it. Steve is a good guy, right? Right. He just got really angry and had to calm down, Bucky can give him that. Plus, there's a tiny sparkle of pride in his chest if he thinks that Steve lost control for _him_. That's so terrifyingly adorable. And cute. And hot. 

Smiling to himself, Bucky pets Alpine on his lap and thinks about that day in the lab when he met Steve. And that time they talked in the hallway and he showered Bucky in compliments. And that moment he ran into him and Steve just lifted him and put his hand on his waist and he was so concerned and sweet. 

He even asked Bucky for a coffee. _A coffee_. Thinking of it now, Bucky regrets refusing that offer and running away like the coward he is. Without even a proper excuse. He's such an idiot. 

And yet, Steve ran to him as soon as he heard he was in danger and saved his life, despite Bucky bailing on him with that dick move. Steve's really a great guy. 

Ops. Bucky has a Big Bad Crush, doesn't he? Fuck. 

Bucky hasn't even thanked him yet. It's been four days and Steve's probably wondering if Bucky's gonna show up anytime soon and say thank you for saving his life. He probably thinks Bucky's an ungrateful dick. 

Bucky definitely feels like one now. He needs to find Steve soon and show him his immense gratitude. At least that. He could even hug Steve if he asked him to. Or kiss him. Or climb him like a tree. Steve probably likes being climbed like a tree. It's a great way of saying thank you, right? Right. 

Yeah he'll do that, but first, he has to find Steve. 

* * *

This is a bad idea. Actually, it's a horrible, terrible idea.

"Pete." Bucky inhales and looks up at the huge building, "I changed my mind. I don't wanna do this anymore."

"What?" Peter looks at him with disbelief. "You bugged me all day to take you here and now you don't want to? Oh man, that's not cool." 

"I didn't know Shield was this huge!" Bucky whisper-yells. "It's scary." 

And that's just part of the problem. When he asked Peter to go with him to where Steve works, he thought that it'd be at the Tower. That's where Steve lives and works right? He's an Avenger. But no. Turns out he's also a Shield agent and there's this other skyscraper with too many windows and too many people and he's about to go in there and that only makes his anxiety level up. 

Plus, the reality that he's about to see and talk to Steve didn't hit him until they arrived here with Peter's aunt's car, and now it's too late to go back and hide himself in a bush. Seriously, what was he thinking when he decided it'd be a good idea to show up at Steve's work and say _'hi, you're my hero, can I kiss you?'_ or something like that?

Oh God. Bucky's heart is gonna implode if it doesn't stop banging. 

"Oh, come on." Peter rolls his eyes and tugs at Bucky's arm, dragging him towards the entrance. "Tony's tower is bigger than this one and you're not scared of it. And I'm sure Mr. Steve will be happy to see you." 

"Will he?" Bucky reluctantly lets Peter lead him inside the building. "Peter I can't do this." 

"Yes you can." 

As they walk inside the huge lobby of Shield's field office in New York, Bucky emits something like a whine and gulps, his anxiety rising at an alarming rate. Seriously, why did he decide to do this? He's so stupid.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid_ he keeps repeating in his head, his legs already feeling like noodles at the thought of having to meet Steve. 

Oh God. Steve is _here_ . In this same fucking _building_ . And Bucky is going straight to _him_ . With his own traitorous _legs_. Why are they still moving? He needs to run, he can't do this. Steve probably doesn't even care about him, doesn't even want to see him. Why did he get this stupid idea?

"Peter. I'm gonna die." Bucky wheezes as they step in front of an elevator.

Peter sighs and punches the call button, before turning to face Bucky and putting his hands on his cheeks, squishing them. "Okay, now answer my questions. Why are we here?"

" _To shee Shteve_." 

"And then?" 

" _To thankh'm._ " 

"Woohoo! Bingo!" Peter lets go of Bucky's cheeks and claps his hands. "So we're gonna do just that." 

Bucky whines once more as they step into the empty elevator. He tries to ignore how much his clammy hands are shaking, or how fast his heart is thumping in his chest. 

"I'm nervous." Bucky mutters, looking at his shoes and wringing his hands together. 

He tries to repeat the seventeen different versions of the speech that he prepared before coming here, but as the number of the floors quickly rises and rises with them, Bucky's brain starts to white out, and he fucking panics. 

What is he going to say? He'll make a fool of himself, and Steve is gonna laugh at him and then tell him to go home and keep eating his cheap cashews.

"Bucko," Patting his shoulder, Peter gives him a soft look, "Don't worry, okay? Mr. Steve will be nice and happy to see you, and it's gonna be fine."

"What if he doesn't? What if I look stupid?" Bucky buries his face in his hands and groans in frustration, then turns to Peter with a devastated look in his eyes. "Wait, do I look stupid?" 

"No–" 

"How's my hair?" Flipping out his phone, Bucky turns on the camera and looks at his hopefully decent reflection. "I don't look like a parody of Tina Turner, right?" 

"Nope." Peter chuckles. "No Tina Turner parody. You look like a cute Bucky that's about to sweep Steve off his feet." 

"Peter, don't start it." Giving him a pointed look, Bucky ducks his head to hide the blush that covers his cheeks in record speed. "I'm not here for that." 

"Uh-uh, sure." 

"Peter." 

"Oh look, it's time to go!" Peter gives him a shit eating grin when the elevator dings open. 

"I hate you." He grumbles and follows Peter out in the space before them. 

It's a smaller lobby than the one they've been before, and that makes him feel a bit better at least. There's a desk on the left side of the room, a fairly pretty woman sitting behind it and tapping on the keyboard with what sound like very obnoxious nails on her hands. 

On the right side, which basically consists in huge, floor-to-ceiling glass windows that completely cover the wall and allow the sunlight to illuminate the vast space, there are only three, navy blue leather chairs and a small coffee table next to them. 

The decorations are minimalistic. On the wall behind the desk there's a modern painting that Bucky's pretty sure he saw at his dentist's waiting room, and a big vase with a big green plant just next to the window. 

Three vending machines cover a portion of the wall on the left side, close to the elevator doors. 

Bucky hopes that Peter knows where he's going. He seems pretty sure of himself about all of this, and Bucky would pay him in cash straight away for some of his confidence. 

"Shit." Peter whispers when suddenly a black, terrifying man exits one of the doors at the far end of the hallway, long, black leather coat and a black eyepatch on his eye. 

He doesn't look very... friendly. 

"Parker?" His voice slices through the air and Bucky sees Peter wince by his side, and just, what the hell is going on? 

"Mr. Fury, Sir! It's– it's really good to see you!"

"Peter, who's this guy?" Bucky murmurs as the man approaches them, his only eye glaring daggers at him or at Peter or at whatever he's seeing. 

Peter pays him no mind and keeps stuttering and acting like he just saw a grizzly bear, and Bucky feels his chest slowly collapse because this is not in the plans. Nope. 

Meeting a scary pirate is not on their to do list today, and Peter acting like he's about to get mauled with a spade isn't either. And shit, the man's an Alpha and every cell in Bucky's body screams that this guy is not to mess with, not even for fun.

"Parker." Mr. Fury towers over them as he stops in front of Peter. "We need to talk." And that sounds a lot like an order.

"Ooh, someone's in trouble." Peter chuckles awkwardly and Mr. Fury just levels him with another glare. "It's me, I don't know why I said that." 

And then a few things happen at once. Mr. Fury starts walking away and Peter, the traitor, follows suit, before he turns around and gives Bucky an apologetic smile and a thumbs up. 

Bucky's eyes widen so much that for a moment he thinks they're about to fall out. "Peter?" 

Where is he going? He can't leave him alone now, he can't. And he won't, it's just a prank, right? Peter is gonna turn around and come back to him and take him to Steve and– and then... 

And then the elevator opens, Peter and Mr. Fury step in, and then they disappear. 

And Bucky's alone. 

It's probably three years later when he finally unfreezes and takes a breath. What does he do now? He's lost here, alone and scared. Glancing around himself, Bucky finds the lady behind the desk still typing on her computer, and he wonders if she even noticed his presence. Probably not, but Bucky's about to change that.

Okay, Bucky needs a plan. But first he has to rearrange the mess in his brain.

 **Number one:** he's still alive, but sadly alone and that's scary.

 **Number two:** he's here to see Steve, and that means that he should probably find him. Desk Lady probably knows where he is, he should ask her.

 **Number three:** basically, Bucky's about to die. 

But he can do this. He's an adult and he can do things by himself without them ending up in a disaster. 

_Come on_ , he tells himself, _grow a pair and do what you need to do_. It's easy right? Gulping, Bucky clenches his fists to gather all the courage he has and takes a deep breath, before he moves his legs and approaches Desk Lady with what he hopes is the stance of a confident human being. 

"Um, hello?" 

A manicured eyebrow lifts slightly as she looks up at him with an unimpressed expression. The tag on her blouse reads Brenda, and with a curious glance Bucky finds out that her nails look as obnoxious as they sound. They're pink and pointed and that's just, ugh. She's an Omega, but her scent is almost fully covered by an overwhelming, too sweet perfume that makes Bucky want to gag. 

Brenda levels him with a onceover and a hinted scowl that make Bucky feel self-conscious, and he wonders if there's something wrong with his outfit. He's pretty casual, with his favourite jeans that make his ass look great suit him best and his grey turtleneck sweater to cover the fading bruises, a nice black bomber jacket on top. Bucky thinks he looks cool and nice.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence and Desk Lady staring at him like he's a booger, Bucky realises that she's probably wondering when he'll speak, and possibly get out of her hair. 

"I'm um..." He clears his throat, "I need to see Steve. Steve Rogers." 

Her eyebrow rises a bit more, and then her attention turns back to the computer. "What's your name?"

"Bucky Barnes." He watches as she types the name on the keyboard swiftly and then looks up at the computer with a frown, and Bucky's read enough fanfiction to know where exactly this is going. 

Shit. 

"Do you have an appointment?" 

There it is. 

"Um... no?" Swallowing, Bucky feels his cheeks redden with shame at the glare Brenda hints at him. He's in so much trouble. 

Brenda lifts one of those office phones to her ear after pressing a button on it. "Agent Rogers, are you expecting someone at the moment?"

Shit, shit, shit, Bucky's about to jump out of the window and embrace death because it's certainly gonna be better than all this humiliating bullshit. 

"Okay." Brenda says, still glaring at Bucky. "I apologise for the inconvenience." 

And then she points her brown, arrogant eyes at him. "I'm sorry, Agent Rogers is not here today, you can come back another time." 

"But..." Bucky frowns. "You just talked to him." 

"Elevator's that way." She indicates with her obnoxious nail to his left, and then goes back to type on the computer. 

And Bucky… Bucky starts to get fed up. This stupid bitch acting like this with him? Who the hell does she think he is? Bucky's not having it. He'll break into Steve's office if he has to, just to prove to her how irrelevant she is. 

"Look, " He takes a deep breath, "I don't have time and I really need to see Steve, so if you could just let him–" 

"Excuse me," She starts and narrows her eyes, "But who are you even?" 

And oh. That shuts him up. That strikes a chord. That makes Bucky's gut twist and his heart squeeze something fierce, because she's right. Who is he if not some stupid kid who's gonna walk into Captain America's office with his his pathetic anxiety and whatever he came here to say? 

He's nothing compared to the people in here. Even Brenda, with her desk job and pink nails has some importance, some respect. But Bucky? 

He's suddenly reminded of his high school years, when he used to be the target of regular bullies because he was a chubby, nerdy, gay Omega that barely had money for new clothes and had to wear the same, worn out ones. _'Who the hell are you even Barnes?'_ Joyce once said to him _'I'll tell you what. You're nothing'_ she finished with a spit to Bucky's face and a shove that sent him slamming into the lockers. 

Huh. So the nightmare still goes on apparently. And Bucky's still nothing. 

Bucky snaps his mouth shut after he realises it's been hanging open for a few long seconds, swallows down the hurt she just rubbed over his wounds and replaces it with burning, juvenile anger. She might have struck a chord, but Bucky's not gonna walk out of this with his tail between his legs. His jaw clenches and his heart rate picks up its pace, and boy is he going to throw a tantrum now. Fuck Brenda and her horrible perfume. If there's someone who's nothing, it's her.

He goes to open his mouth, unsure of what he's even going to say, when suddenly a voice from the corridor steals his attention. Mainly because it carries his name. 

"Bucky?" 

It's Natasha, strolling towards him with her usual, scary face, unimpressed and flat, only this time there's a hint of a smirk shadowing her expression. 

"Agent Romanoff," Brenda starts with her annoying fake voice, "I was just about to escort him out–" 

"That's fine Brenda, go back to your work." Natasha doesn't even spare her a look, instead focuses on keeping her eyes on Bucky, who doesn't know if he should feel more victorious or threatened right now.

"I'd ask you why and how you're here, but let me guess..." She tilts her head and Bucky feels suddenly very exposed, "...you're here for Steve?"

And Bucky God to honest blushes so hard he wants a hole to open in the ground and swallow him whole, because Natasha got him figured out and she's grinning like a maniac.

"Um... y-yeah but–" 

"Follow me." The redhead cuts him off before he even has the chance to figure out what to say, and it's the last thing she says before turning around and strutting back down the hallway. 

Fuck, this is happening too fast, he needs some time for a pep talk, dammit. When Bucky's legs finally decide to move, Natasha's already a few feet ahead, and Bucky has to jog a little to catch up with her.

By the time they're standing in front of a door with a silver tag that has Agent S.G. Rogers carved onto it, Bucky's heart is just an irrational _thump thump thump_ that continuously beats inside his ears and throat and everywhere. 

He's not even sure he's breathing, and the look he gives Natasha must be so devastated and pitiful in that moment, because next thing he knows there's a hand on his shoulder and she's smiling sympathetically at him, sending off calming Beta pheromones. "Wait here a sec." Natasha whispers before knocking on the door and peeking iside.

"Hey, golden boy, you have a visitor."

A groan comes from inside the room. "Please tell me it's not Fury again." And that's Steve's voice, it's _Steve_ , he's actually _in there_ , and Bucky's heart jumps all the way to the moon when he hears him. "I'm on break right now."

"Well that's a shame." Natasha fakes her disappointment. "Bucky was really hoping to see you, but fine then–"

"Wait what– ow fuck!" Bucky has to suppress a giggle at the sound of something crashing on the floor, followed by a thump and frantic shuffling. "Buck-Bucky's here?"

Steve's voice is breathless when he pronounces his name, and Bucky feels a thrill run through his body upon hearing it. His heart is full on banging in his chest, and he shifts on uncertain feet when Natasha turns back to him with a smirk, grabs his arm and just shoves him inside the room before he even has the chance to process it.

And suddenly Steve's right there in front of him. And Bucky forgets how to speak.

Whatever speech he had rehearsed and repeated over and over just vanishes from his mind, and Bucky's left staring at Steve with his heart in his throat and a belly full of butterflies.

The white button-down Steve's wearing looks like it's about to rip at the seams, the fabric clinging to those pecs and biceps and Bucky wants to cry pity for it (and himself), and God, the sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and Steve's forearms are hairy and veiny, so _veiny_ , and Bucky thinks he just discovered his new fetish. And the grey slacks, they're hugging Steve's thighs so well, and Bucky inevitably lets his eyes fall on Steve's crotch, on that bulge that wakes very inappropriate thoughts in Bucky's head and _hngh!_ Bucky wants to straddle him.

He almost forgot the smell of Steve's scent since their last encounter, and now he's hit with its intensity again. He inhales it, maybe too much, and his knees suddenly feel wobbly. Steve's scent is unlike any other he has ever smelled on Alphas. It's stronger, sharper and it carries something with it that feels like it's from another lifetime. Bucky's engulfed by it, his inner Omega singing with how good it feels, making him want to just give in to Steve, to bury his face in Steve's neck and scent him till he passes out.

His gaze dances shyly over Steve's form, no matter how much he tries not to stare too obviously, but he can't help himself, and when he finally looks at Steve's face, Bucky finds surprise written all over it, blue eyes wide and pink mouth slightly open. 

"Hi." Bucky manages when he remembers how to use words again. Steve is staring at him too, his eyes lingering on a spot on Bucky's face that he quickly realises is his lips, and he feels his breath go short. 

Blushing, he averts his gaze and waits for Steve to say something. He's getting uncomfortable and nervous and Steve's so hot, his Alpha scent doing _things_ to Bucky, making him all mellow and pliant and wanting.

"Bucky, hi." The blond finally breathes out with a smile, his scent spiking up a little as he takes two steps forward, and the rumble of his voice makes Bucky shiver. "What... what are you doing here?"

Good question. What is he doing here? Oh right! Mission Thank You Steve is on, right.

"Um I..." Bucky ducks his head and, why is he feeling so stupid all of a sudden? "I hope I'm not disturbing–"

"What? No, no, not at all!" Steve says over enthusiastically, before he gets a hold of himself and blushes. "I mean uh, I wasn't doing anything anyway. Come in."

Bucky steps further inside, walking towards a couple of expensive looking armchairs that face Steve's desk. It's a nice office, modern and with a sober design, and it suits perfectly the man that works in it.

Steve doesn't step around his desk to sit in his chair, instead he stays by Bucky's side, turning to face him when they stop by the armchairs. "How are you?" He asks softly, and Bucky looks up to see an expression of genuine concern on his face. It makes Bucky melt a little bit. Steve's scent is starting to dangle towards the protective Alpha smell, and Bucky doesn't know what to think of it.

He doesn't know what to think at all, actually. He needs to clear his brain, so he promptly avoids breathing through his nose, 'cause Steve's scent surely isn't helping now.

"I'm good." He smiles and fiddles with the zipper of his jacket, "I um... wanted to thank you for Thursday... For saving me." He says humbly. "That was just... really nice of you and–"

"Bucky." Steve is suddenly standing right in front of him, and Bucky has to force himself to look up at Steve's face and not face plant his pectoral. "You don't have to thank me. I... wish I came there sooner, just... you're okay right?"

Bucky's heart flutters at the deep concern in Steve's eyes. "Yeah I'm fine." He nods, "I'm great, and it's all thanks to you, Steve. I can't thank you enough, really."

"It's alright." Steve smiles, and it's like seeing the light for the first time. "You sure you're okay...? Shouldn't you be staying at home?"

"I'm fine, Steve." Bucky chuckles and rolls his eyes, trying to mask how flustered Steve's protective Alpha scent is making him. "I'm going back to work tomorrow anyway, so..."

Nodding, Steve's gaze once more drops to Bucky's lips, before flickering back up to his eyes and lingering there. The following silence is almost unbearable, and Bucky feels the tension in the air rise, feels it become electric and dense as they stare into each other's eyes.

Steve's scent is entrancing, addictive, and Bucky can't help but let himself indulge in how cozy it makes him feel, and safe. If he thought that he was the only one of the two to show interest towards the other, well now he's almost certain that the way Steve is looking at him _means_ something, and that something is making his heart thump like crazy and his face blush bright red.

Then, his breath stops and his heart stutters a dozen extra beats when Steve suddenly reaches up with his hand and brushes a lock of hair behind Bucky's ear, gently and softly. He looks cautious, almost like he expects Bucky to bolt and get on the defensive, and Bucky would've done that if it was any other Alpha. But it's Steve, and there's something in him that Bucky knows he can trust. Something different.

He doesn't shy away from the gesture, instead shivers at the warm contact of Steve's hand when it brushes his ear, and gives Steve a smile that the Alpha returns equally as sweet. The silence is killing him, but Bucky can't bring himself to say something, completely at a loss of words. His eyes are flickering from spot to spot, unable to bear looking into Steve's blues for more than a second without becoming beet red. 

"I... I should be going..." He mumbles all of a sudden, even though every cell in his body is screaming to stay. 

Steve's face falls, the bright smile getting swept away by a sad frown. "Do you really have to?"

The question sends Bucky's heart racing, but it's the tone with which it's worded that makes him almost shudder, because that's Steve's Alpha voice, it's power and dominance hidden by a masquerade of hesitation, and Bucky can't bring himself to say no. He hates the stereotypical roles of Omegas and Alphas, hates that the first ones are always meant to submit and follow the orders and be good little Omegas. He hates everything about it, and yet, now he finds himself giving in without protest. He's never been like this around Alphas before.

"I-I don't w-want to bother you any longer..." He stutters with a tiny voice, throat clicking as he swallows and mind going fuzzy. 

"Hey, no." Steve's voice is soft but unrelenting as he places his huge hand on Bucky's arm, "You could never bother me, Buck, okay?"

Gazing up into Steve's ocean eyes with a timid smile, Bucky finds himself nodding with a quiet hum, almost whimpering at the fluttering feeling in his belly.

"Say." Steve continues, "How about we get that coffee this time?"

And well, Bucky would be a fool to say no.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided to split this chapter because it was starting to overflow 10k words, but the next one is almost done and it should be uploaded tomorrow. Now I'm gonna sleep. 
> 
> Stay updated! Love yous


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should be doing homework but no, I literally spent the whole day napping and finishing this chapter lmao.
> 
> Thanks everyone for the kind comments! <3 they really motivate me to write more. Enjoy!

The walk to the nearby coffee shop lasted five minutes at last, but to Bucky it felt like an eternity. As soon as they stepped out of the building and into the crowded streets, Steve went all confident, protective Alpha, standing even taller than what he is and puffing his chest out, his scent sharpening as he stood close to Bucky's side. Normally, it would make Bucky laugh and roll his eyes, but this time it only made him want to jump into Steve's arms and rub himself all over his body. 

Steve acting like he's Bucky's Alpha shouldn't have this effect on him, dammit. Bucky Barnes never allows an Alpha to make him feel weak and little and schmoopy, okay? 

But he likes it. He likes  _ Steve _ , and all of this is getting his hopes up, but it's nice to pretend a little bit sometimes. Nobody's gonna get hurt, right? Right.

So, now they're sitting at a small table in an old-fashioned cafe, facing each other with their drinks in front of them. Steve insisted to buy Bucky the donut he was not so subtly eyeing -- because he's a slut for donuts is what he is -- and despite Bucky trying to deter him, Steve took the upper hand and now Bucky's munching on the chocolate filled pastry, his taste buds basically orgasming at the wonderful taste. 

Steve hasn't taken a sip of his coffee yet, his attention fully drawn on Bucky and whatever little thing he does or says,  _ watching him _ , and Bucky's not sure if he wants to cower and hide under the table or jump onto Steve's lap and kiss him senseless. Probably the latter. 

Jumping head first into this date -- it's a date right? It feels like one -- gave Bucky little to no time to ground himself and act normally, trying not to blush and swoon at every other thing Steve did. 

He thought there would be awkward silences and embarrassing staring contests, and there have been at the beginning, but soon enough Bucky found out that with Steve everything is easy and smooth. 

Steve's so easy to talk to. There's a sense of security and lightness with him, it makes Bucky feel confident, at ease, and happy. 

The initial small talk has been awkward, that's a fact, but it quickly changed into a nice conversation. 

"Mhm," Bucky hums before swallowing the donut bite, "I'm gonna master engineering and then I'll see. Maybe I could master physics too, but if Tony gives me a job then I probably won't. But I like physics a lot so I'll do that one as well eventually." He finishes, blushing a bit like he always does when he realises he's rambling.

Steve is looking at him with intent, eyes wide in wonder as he shakes his head and chuckles. "Wow..."

"...what?" Brow knitting, Bucky looks up at the fond smile on the blond's face.

"Nothing." He shrugs, "You're just... incredible."

Bucky immediately has to look away, the apples on his cheeks flushing an embarrassing amount of red at the compliment. "Am not." He mumbles, unable to stop the butterflies in his stomach nor the smile creeping on his face. 

"Yes you are." Steve insists and leans forward on his elbows. "You're so talented and intelligent Bucky, there's very few people in the world who can do what you do, you know that?"

Steve really has to cut him some slack with the compliments before he melts into a puddle of goo and embarrassment. 

"Thanks." He breathes out, looking at Steve's pretty eyes, at his golden hair, at his sexy bone structure, his prominent Adam's apple and square jawline and that spot on his strong neck where Bucky knows his scent glands are, and he wants to put his nose there and–

"So..." Steve's giving him a knowing smirk when he breaks out of his daze, and that makes him hot all over again. "Are you from New York or…?"

"No." Bucky shakes his head, either in denial or to ground himself. "I was born in Indiana, actually, but my family moved to Long Island when I was one."

"Oh." Steve says with surprise, "So you grew up on the beach a lot?"

Bucky's about to reply, but the words get stuck in his throat when he feels Steve's ankle shift to brush against his own under the table. Biting on his tongue to fight an embarrassing whimper, Bucky stammers some unintelligible syllables before he remembers how to speak.

"Uh, y-yah I-I did." He knows his ears are visibly burning red, knows his scent is betraying him and he's getting hot and bothered. He knows because he sees it in the way Steve's eyes darken and his grin gets all proud and smug. His shin still stays there, it's leaning against Bucky's leg and the contact is warm, electric, it wakes a crazy tingle in his body.

"I used to go to Long Island quite often during the summer back in the forties." Steve has a nostalgic smile on his face, and Bucky suddenly remembers that he's sitting in front of a man from another time, a man that lived through so much, that made history and has seen things that very few people can still recall. "Couldn't get in the water a lot, though, or I woulda get sick and spend the next two weeks in bed. Couldn't do that to Ma."

There's a sad note in Steve's voice and scent at the mention of his mother, and Bucky finds himself involuntarily wanting to soothe it, to make Steve feel better and erase every bit of sorrow from his eyes. He presses his leg against Steve's a little bit more, silently giving him warmth and comfort.

"Were you really so small back then?" Bucky asks, helplessly curious, and Steve shakes his head and scoffs, but it's fond, it's like he's remembering something bittersweet and precious that he cradles close to his heart.

"I was." He nods and looks up at Bucky, and his eyes are crinkling with a smile, "I was even smaller than you at your age. Stick-thin kid with a head too big for his body, is what I was."

Bucky remembers some of the old pictures of Steve at the Smithsonian and around the Internet. He remembers looking at photos of a toothpick blondie and wondering how the hell he became Captain America. It always seemed impossible, but then again, maybe that was the reason why Steve Rogers has always been his favourite superhero. From a thin, sickly boy that everybody put in a corner and beat up, he became this huge mountain of muscles, of righteousness and virtue, and he dedicated his life to saving people, to fighting wars he never started but that he equally never backed down from either. 

He inspired Bucky in more ways than he can think of, spurted him on when he too was put in a corner and beat up for being weaker and smaller, encouraged him to fight for himself and for what's right while living in such a cruel world. 

"You've always been an inspiration to me, ya know?" The words are out of his mouth before he can even stop them, but he doesn't regret them. If anything, he wants Steve to know that what he did and does is important, has a meaning and value. 

Steve's blushing at the declaration. "Yeah?" He smiles with glinting eyes, leaning a bit more forward on his elbows to look Bucky in the eyes. 

"Yeah." Bucky leans in too, fighting the urge to kiss him right there. "I can't explain how, though. When I used to get bullied at school I always thought of you, how you fought for yourself and proved your worth to all the bullies. I thought that if you could do it, then I could, too."

Bucky wonders if those are really tears in Steve's shimmering eyes, and the thought makes his heart squeeze a bit. He gives Steve a sweet, sincere smile and presses his leg against his again, a silent way of saying thank you, of showing that he knows how it feels to be the weak one. 

"That..." Steve looks down at his hands, eyebrows pinched with emotion, "That's the nicest thing someone ever said to me. Thank you..."

Heart clenching in his chest, Bucky fights the urge to bring Steve into his arms and give him kisses and hugs to soothe that flicker of pain in his eyes. He boldly puts his hand on Steve's instead, surprising both himself and the Alpha with the gesture, and gives it a soft squeeze.

Steve's blush and smile match his own, and then he flips his hand around to properly hold onto Bucky's smaller one, leaning in to give a featherlight kiss to his knuckles.

Bucky's whole body lights up at the gesture, the spot on his hand where Steve's lips touched him feeling like it's on fire, and he can't really wrap his mind around what just happened. Heartbeat pounding in his ears, Bucky's thankful that he's sat down, because if he weren't his legs would have already given out under him like overcooked noodles.

Taking a shaky breath, he wills himself not to crumble and become a puddle of goo on the spot. 

"Do you..." Hesitating, the curious smile on Steve's face gives him the courage to go on, "...do you ever wish to go back?"

Steve looks at him with his deep, blue eyes at the question, seemingly debating over which answer to give, but he wraps his mind around it quickly. "Sometimes." He shrugs, and he's smiling at Bucky, so sweetly, "But I don't think I could ever leave what I have now behind."

There's a meaning in those words, an implication that Bucky can't help but think is referred to him with the way Steve looks directly at him when he says the last sentence. Belly fluttering with butterflies, he ducks his head and tries to fight the smile from overtaking his expression. Steve's still holding his hand, rubbing gently on the back of it with the pad of his thumb, and it's not much, maybe it doesn't even mean anything to Steve, but to him, right now, it's definitely everything.

Two hours later, they're still at the cafe, talking and laughing about anything and everything. Steve's not holding his hand anymore, but their ankles are locked under the table, and Bucky's buzzing with excitement about this crazy situation he's found himself in.

Bucky told Steve about his studies and friends from college; told him about his obsession with space and constellations and his ability to make any cat love him at first sight, ("I think I might be a cat whisperer Steve. If I end up broke one day, I should make a business out of it"). He talked about his fear of heights and about his first correlated panic attack, when his sister forced him to climb a tree and he couldn't get down anymore and started crying. Bucky explained his irrational love for donuts and asked Steve if he has a food he is obsessed over too.

Steve said that his mother's pie will forever be his number one, but sometimes he allows sushi to take the first place if he's in a forgiving mood. Steve also said that he wanted to study arts after high school, but never got the chance to, in the end. He said that he still paints and draws whenever he has free time, and promised Bucky to show him some of his pieces since the Omega  begged insisted so much. 

He told Bucky that he hated being Captain America for a long time since the beginning, but in the end he meditated on it and made peace with himself, embracing his role and using it at best to do good things. Steve sadly admitted never being able to have a pet because of his allergies, and now that he's healthy he can't have one either since he'd spend too little time with them every day. He said that having one would make him feel less lonely. 

They shared their favourite colours and music tastes, ("Steve you have to listen to Pearl Jam, they're the best in the world."). They talked about embarrassing experiences and even really scary ones, ("One of those guys threw me off the ship and I almost got sliced by the propeller."). 

There has even been some audacious flirting here and there, first from Steve's side and then, surprisingly, from Bucky's too. All of it was so nice, so much that Bucky forgot about all his problems and deadlines for a couple hours and allowed himself to bask in this unusual, carefree happiness. 

Bucky wants to get to know Steve better. Wants to know who he is to the core, including his flaws and smudges, his fears and quirks and everything else. He doesn't even care about the Captain America part anymore. There's so much Steve has to put out there just for public consumption, but Bucky wants to know what lies deep beneath all those layers, wants to know what common people never will.

He wants to be the one to know Steve Rogers in his pure form, in his raw power and raw feelings. And if he falls a little bit in love on the way, then he'll live with that, 'cause he'll know that it'd been worth it. 

It's his phone pinging with a new notification that brings him back to reality. Glancing at the screen, Bucky's eyes widen when he sees that it's way past 5 pm. Did two hours really pass so fast? 

There's a message from Sam, and Bucky curses under his breath when he foresees the trouble he'll be in as soon as he gets home. 

_ Sam-buca [5:17 pm]: where tf are u?!!  _

Shit. He didn't tell Sam about any of this, and he knows that his best friend is beyond worried at the moment. 

_ Bucky [5:17 pm]: sry went out _

_ Bucky [5:17 pm]: be there soon xx _

"Everything okay?" Steve asks, worry etched in his features as he looks at Bucky. 

"Um yeah..." Pocketing his phone, Bucky reluctantly stands up from his seat, "I should be going home..." 

"Oh..." Steve's face falls a little, before he glances at his watch and his eyes too widen in surprise. "Woah yeah, alright. Do you uh... need a lift?" 

Peter's most definitely gone home by now, so that leaves the subway as the only option to go back to the apartment. Although there's nothing Bucky wants more than to spend the ride home with Steve (and possibly the rest of the night too), he's starting to feel like a burden. The idea of taking the subway sounds terrifying, though, just thinking about being out there with all those people around, all those  _ Alphas _ , makes Bucky shudder. He can't help but remember what happened just a few days ago, and the idea of having a repeat of the event makes Bucky already blue with panic.

"Buck." Steve's voice is suddenly close, and Bucky looks up to see the Alpha hovering next to him. "Do you want me to take you home?"

Steve's scent is oozing comfort and protectiveness, and Bucky finds himself relaxing within seconds, shoulders slumping and breath easing when Steve's warm hand gently lays atop his arm. He's suddenly overcome with the need to just bury himself into Steve's arms, to let himself go and bask in the safety of the Alpha standing in front of him.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Bucky takes a step away to avoid doing stupid, regrettable things. "No, thanks I... I'll just take the subway."

"Let me take you home, Bucky." Steve's tone is both pleading and authoritative, and the Omega in Bucky suddenly just wants to give in, to let Steve make the decision. "I... I'd feel better to know you get home safe."

That has Bucky's insides melting and his heart stuttering in his chest. It's the way Steve says it, like he cares, acting once again as if Bucky's his Omega and he wants and  _ needs _ to take care of him.

Bucky tries not to get that thought fuck him up too much. He realises just in that moment how much he wants to be Steve's Omega, how much he craves the presence of the Alpha, his words and looks and scent. He swore not to get any feelings involved, and yet look where he's at. 

"I... okay." He says in the end. It's easy to give in and indulge in... whatever this is, especially when Steve repays him with one of dazzling smiles, with the warmth in his eyes as he looks down at Bucky like he's something precious. If Bucky can make that smile appear on Steve's face just like this, then he'll agree to anything he says.

Steve insists to pay, obviously. Bucky doesn't even have time to protest before Steve's already paid the bill and leading them outside the cafe. Bucky wants to make a fuss, about how he's independent and just because he's an Omega doesn't mean he can't pay for himself, but before he can even open his mouth to protest, Steve's hand is suddenly on the small of his back, and Bucky's brain straight away stops working. The warm weight of it makes his knees almost give in from underneath him, the contact sending electric shocks up his spine, and Bucky has to fight with body and mind an embarrassing whimper from escaping his mouth. 

Steve drops his hand too soon after that, much to Bucky's disappointment. They walk back the short distance to Shield's HeadQuarters side by side. Steve is talking about something, his deep voice washing over Bucky like a waterfall, but he can't make out any of the words. His mind is completely elsewhere, thinking about how that hand felt on his body, how it would feel interlaced with his own, or touching him in other places, and Bucky finds himself blushing like an idiot for the umpteenth time. He wonders how would it be if Steve suddenly turned around and pinned him to the wall, kissed him senseless and wrapped him up in those huge arms and–

Fuck. He needs to stop this before he gets aroused and Steve smells it, and judging by the way Steve is staring down at him right now, he probably already did. Shit. 

"Buck?" Steve's expression is confused, but his cheeks are flushing pink, eyes trained on Bucky with intent. "...um, we're here."

Not even realising that they've reached their destination, Bucky follows the direction Steve's hand is pointing at and oh...

That, in front of them, is a motorcycle. 

Bucky is so screwed. And not even in the fun way.

"Um..." He stammers, trying to ignore the fact that Steve is inching closer, watching him with dark eyes. "You... that's a motorcycle." 

No shit Sherlock. Why does he have to embarrass himself like this all the time? What a way to go, Barnes. 

"Yeah... it's a motorcycle." Steve looks at him a bit funny and chuckles, before heading towards the stunning, badass Harley parked in front of them. "Come here." 

Bucky follows, taking the helmet handed to him with shaky hands and trying to figure out how the hell it works, because he's never been this close to a motorcycle before, let alone  _ ridden _ one, and the three brain cells he has can't seem to do anything useful except think about how he's about to be plastered to Steve's back and have that sexy body between his legs and oh God oh shit, oh fuck. He's gonna die. 

Steve must see his struggle, because next thing he knows the blond's in front of him, taking the helmet from Bucky and putting it on his head. "Here, let me help you." 

He tilts Bucky's chin up with gentle fingers to better fasten the straps, but Bucky's mind can't help but think of Steve doing it to scent him, to expose his gland and latch his lips on it, suck on it and–  **No** . 

Bucky can't seem to breathe anymore. Every graze of Steve's hands on his neck and jaw feels like fireworks exploding under his skin. His palms are sweating where he keeps them clenched in fists at his sides, because the last thing he needs right now is do something stupid with them, like bury them in Steve's hair or grope his pecs. 

"There you go." Smiling down at him, Steve doesn't forget to once again brush a lock of hair behind his ear. 

Shivering, Bucky ducks his head and mumbles a quiet thanks, basking in the warmth of Steve's body, which is so close now, his scent engulfing Bucky completely, wrapping his mind in a sweet daze that leaves him speechless. 

He watches Steve withdraw and straddle the motorcycle, swinging a long, sexy leg over it. "Hop on." He says with a smirk and gestures to the spot behind him, and Bucky's sure he's about to have a stroke in the next fourteen seconds. 

Moving on wobbly legs, Bucky sits behind Steve, holding onto the broadest shoulders ever when he almost loses his balance, and tries to put as much distance as he can from that muscled back, because he knows that if he even gets a tad closer than this, his stupid body is gonna betray him and he'll pop a boner on the spot. 

And that would lead to a hundred other little disasters.

"Put your hands around me, Buck." Steve is smiling, smug and cocky like he knows what he's doing to Bucky. "You'll want to hold on to me if you don't wanna fall off, trust me." 

"Um..." Circling his arms loosely around Steve's middle, Bucky still keeps a few inches between them. "Like this?" 

Then he yelps as Steve just literally grabs him by the hip and tugs him forward until he's plastered against Steve's back, thighs snugly bracketing the blond's body and  _ oh God _ . Bucky thinks he just came. 

"That's better." Steve tuts and with his own hands he tightens Bucky's arms around his narrow waist. "Hold on tight, okay?" 

"Okay." He nods, and is that really Bucky's voice? He sounds like someone is pointing a gun to his nuts and threatening to blast them away. 

Steve is so  _ warm _ . He's like a furnace and the plains of his muscles are hard and defined and Bucky whimpers at the feeling of those abs under the layers of fabric. Holy cow. One could grate cheese on them. He would be drooling if he wasn't so concentrated on holding onto Steve like a barnacle, hoping to get home all in one piece. 

"Steve." He squeaks and digs his fingers into Steve's jacket as the blond stands the bike from the kickstand and starts the engine. "Don't kill us." 

Chuckling, Steve gives Bucky's hand a squeeze. "Don't worry, Buck, just hold on tight." 

And then they race off, and Bucky's squeak gets swallowed by the roaring of the bike and the wind whipping at their ears. He latches onto Steve with his arms and legs impossibly tighter, whimpering and burying his face into Steve's back. 

Eyes squeezed shut, he takes a moment to inhale Steve's intoxicating scent, feeling heat pool in his gut for a second before his stomach drops as they take a sharp turn, and he lets out another embarrassing squeal that he hopes Steve doesn't hear. 

Steve must feel how crazy Bucky's heart is beating against his back, because as soon as they stop at a red light, he's reaching back with a hand and rubbing gently on Bucky's thigh in reassurance, and oh God. Steve's touching his thigh! 

"You okay?" With his other hand, Steve envelops Bucky's smaller one that's so fiercely clutching at Steve's jacket and gives it a soft squeeze. 

Bucky's brain stops working. 

"I'm still alive." He mumbles somehow, considering his face is still buried between Steve's shoulder blades, and the blond chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against Bucky's chest and waking a flutter in his belly. 

"Just relax, sweetheart." 

And oh. The pet name reverberates in Bucky's ears like a melody, and he thinks he melts a little right then and there. It's still echoing in his brain after they take off again, it keeps going on repeat and covers any other sound coming from outside, making Bucky's heart flutter in his chest every time he repeats it in his head. 

_ Sweetheart _ .

Nobody's ever called him that, and he cannot believe what he's been missing his whole life, because hearing it feels damn good. It  _ sounds _ good, and maybe it's just because it's Steve who said it, maybe it's the  _ way _ he said it, so sure of it and sweet and possessive, but Bucky doesn't care. 

He just knows that this is by far the best moment of his entire life. 

When they arrive at his apartment complex ten minutes later, Bucky's legs and whole body are shaking as he gets off the bike, pumped full of adrenaline and slight arousal. 

Steve helps him steady himself, two big hands gripping his shoulders before they move to unclasp the buckles of the helmet under his chin, and Bucky flushes a bright red when Steve takes it off and laughs at the utter mess that his hair has become. 

Whining, he tries to smooth it out before the embarrassing image gets etched in Steve's memory, but Steve just chuckles and shakes his head at him. "Wait, let me fix you." His careful fingers gently brush through Bucky's soft locks. Bucky can't help but gaze up at Steve's giddy smile with a pout on his lips, and he suddenly wants to kiss the hell out of the guy. 

"There." Steve finishes and leans back against his bike, puts his hands in the pocket of his slacks. "I... I had fun today." 

Bucky's cheeks hurt from how much he's smiling. "Me too." He says, "Thank you for the ride. And um... everything else." 

Heart thumping wildly in his chest, Bucky's unsure of how to let Steve go when it's the last thing he wants to do in the world. Can't they just spend some more time together? Just a little bit? A few minutes to share some kisses and hugs? 

"It was my pleasure Buck." Steve is smiling, but he looks as reluctant as Bucky to end this 'date'. "Stay safe, alright?" 

"I will." He nods, wringing his hands together and just standing there, wanting to reach out, to touch Steve, but he can't. He can't let himself slip so easy. 

Steve looks like he wants to say something, opens and closes his mouth a few times before he casts his blue eyes down. "I'll see you tomorrow then? Maybe?" 

Yes, yes, fuck yes he sure as hell hopes so. "Of course." He says and starts to turn towards the entrance of the building. 

Can't he just give Steve a little kiss? Fuck it, it's worth a shot. 

With a quick stride Bucky's standing in front of Steve again, and just as quick he drops a kiss to the blond's cheek. "Bye, Steve." And then he bolts inside of the building at the speed of light and OMG! 

What was that? Why did he do that? 

Leaning against the door of the lobby, Bucky slides down on the ground and buries his face in his hands and he just... can't stop giggling. 

There are butterflies in his belly and his heart is doing that crazy  _ thump thump thump _ thing again and his face is the colour of a beetroot because fuck. That was reckless and amazing and Steve's skin is so soft and up close his scent is just... to die for. Bucky thinks his ears caught a glimpse of a gasp before he disappeared in the building, but he doesn't know if it was him or Steve.

Steve, who is still out there, because Bucky hasn't heard any roaring motorcycles taking off in the past minute, or maybe it was just covered the deafening heartbeat in his ears.

Oh my God. Smiling like a lovesick teenager, Bucky rises on shaky legs at the same moment the aggressive sound of an engine reaches his ears and the motorcycle takes off, the roar fading away in the distance.

Did Steve just stay there this whole time? Was he blushing like Bucky? Was he waiting for him to come back? Well, he wouldn't have been able to go back even if he wanted to, with how noodle-like his legs are.

Sighing dreamily, Bucky moves from his spot and races up to the second floor, skipping stairs and almost tripping on his feet. With a happy bounce and a stupid smile on his face he reaches the apartment's door and lets himself in, still blushing hot at the memory of being plastered to Steve's body and–

"James Buchanan Barnes."

Shit. Sam.

Whipping around at the speed of light, Bucky gulps at the sight of Sam sitting at the kitchen table, his arms crossed over his bulging chests. And what's worse is that Sharon is sitting next to him too. 

Double shit. 

Sam looks utterly pissed, the frown on his face tight and angry, while Sharon is giving him a shit eating grin. Bucky knows that the kitchen window looks directly down at the street and they definitely saw everything.

"Come sit with us, Bucky." Sharon says, patting an empty chair by her side. "You have a lot of explaining to do."

Oh boy, oh boy, he's in so much trouble.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Bucky definitely likes riding Steve's motorcycle... maybe Steve will let him ride it again, if you know what I mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Anyway, I still have to start writing the next chapter and I don't know what to do lol, so if you have any suggestions I'll accept them gladly. I don't know when I'll update next, hopefully soon but I'm full of homework and tests these days. 
> 
> Stay safe!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi fellas! It's been a while I know omg omg please forgive me, life is just a bitch sometimes and I'm not immune to it.
> 
> I hope this chapter is a fair bargain for your forgiveness lol.
> 
> Anyway, there are some things to be said here:
> 
> -in the first part there's a bit of immersion in Steve's pov, and his sad little insecurities. It's a therapy session so forgive me if portrayed it the wrong way, I've never had a therapist and idk how it works. 
> 
> -writing in Steve's pov is so different from doing it in Bucky's for some reason, and this chapter gave me a hard time writing it. It's the reason why I posted it so late, I've been rewriting it over and over again, so it's safe to say I'm still feeling rather self conscious about it, but I hope you like it! ^-^
> 
> -please note that this is an au, so it doesn't follow the movie canon. After the battle of New York this plot just goes like I want it to go, so what happens in the movies (ultron, civil war etc) here doesn't!
> 
> I'll leave it to that! There's a lot of fluff in the second part so brace yourselves eheh sjkdlsnd.
> 
> Enjoy!

Stepping out of the car, Steve shuts the door and locks it, before he comes to an abrupt stop when something catches his eye. It’s nothing more than a quick flicker, a tiny ray of sunlight stumbling upon the shiny surface of the watch circling his wrist and reflecting on it. It's a little sudden, a little unexpected, but as he stands right there in front of the pretty, maroon brownstone, the sight brings to the surface a surge of bittersweet memories, because Steve remembers the day he got that watch so, so clearly.

It happened a few weeks after waking up from his notorious 66-year long nap -- the battle of New York had already come and gone, leaving behind a trail of ruins and ashes in the city and in Steve's damaged heart. It happened in those crazy, painful years during which he tried so hard to adapt and survive in a completely foreign, alien world. Was it really the same planet Steve had last been to before diving into the ice? For the love of God, it was the same city, his _homeland_ , and yet everything had changed. Steve was an orphan in a place he once knew like the back of his hand, a place he used to love and call home. He was simply lost.

Running away appeared to be the only solution, the only way to try to find something to hold on, something to help him find himself. Seeking for a sliver of familiar past in places he could no longer recognize. 

So he took upon traveling on his own, off the grid and away from unrelenting attention, searching the world up and down for a cure to that painful, tight emptiness that was carved inside his chest and didn't seem to want to let him breathe. It was just like with the asthma all over again, but nothing could shoo away this brand new weight in his lungs, so heavy that it dragged him down, lower and lower every day into a dark pit of deafening silence and burning ice, into his own madness. 

Everything was confusing, disorienting, out of his league. People wanted something from him all the time. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He just wanted to be alone and disappear, to run away from reality. 

Fury gave him a weird, rectangular device before his departure, and apparently that thing was a phone. Last time Steve had seen a phone it had a rotary dial and an attached handset, and, as far as he knew, couldn't take any pictures. Steve accepted the cell phone with a quiet nod and pocketed it only to never bring it out again. 

Only, that involved one small problem. He had no idea how to check the time. And Steve's always been a painfully punctual man, so when he stumbled upon a small watchmaker store somewhere in Europe, Steve didn't hesitate to take a look inside. 

The watch was nothing special. Handmade by an old, kind man that looked at him funny when he showed Steve the prices. His eyes had gone wide as saucers, because really? That one was the cheapest. 80 fucking dollars that seventy years ago could have bought him and his mom a lifelong stock of, I don’t know, _anything?_ Ignoring the tiny debit card that had been given to him (and that he absolutely had no idea how to use) Steve took the watch and quietly fished 80 bucks from his pocket, swallowing his roaring protests against the outrageous effects of a seventy year's worth inflation, before leaving again for his own little pilgrimage with no destination. 

Four years later, that same watch is somehow still with Steve, no matter how many others have been bought in the meantime, that one always stuck with him. Maybe it’s because he carries it so close to his heart, because it’s a constant reminder of his courage and determination, of hard times where he thought about giving up and ending it all every single day, and yet he’s still here, breathing, living.

Smiling to himself, Steve gently runs his thumb over the brown leather that still looks almost as new, even after all the time spent on his skin, and he silently wishes that it remains there even longer. It might seem stupid to be so attached to a modest watch, but Steve doesn’t need to explain himself for it. To other people it’s just an object, to him is a daily reminder that he can keep going, that he’ll still keep surviving. There must be a reason for him to be still breathing, and maybe, _maybe,_ he's found it. 

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Steve takes the few steps up the stairs of the entryway before stopping in front of the wooden door and knocking on it, once, twice, then backing away with his hands stuffed in his jeans' pockets.

A minute barely passes before the door opens, and he's greeted with a kind, soft smile. "Hey, Steve, come on in." 

"Good morning, Lisa." Steve smiles himself, a nice, warm sense of tranquility washing over him as he enters the house, “I’m sorry I’m a little late but, you know, New York traffic is unforgiving.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry.” She chuckles and waves him off, leading him down the hallway and through a door on the right side of it. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Steve does, crossing the brief distance to the soft, leather reclining armchair and sitting down with a sigh. The room is always so comforting, with fine mahogany furniture and warm, neutral colours, a French window offering a beautiful view of a small zen garden in the backyard. 

"So," Lisa says when she sits down on another armchair beside him, "Did you go to that art class you were talking about?" 

"Ah." Wincing, Steve gives her an apologetic look, "I didn't… I kind of got distracted somewhere on the way and… changed plans." 

"And what is it that distracted you?" Lisa's face is neutral, hiding the caution that she always carries behind her questions, but Steve can't stop the smile from curling over his lips at the thought of said distraction. 

"I uh…" He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, "I met someone." 

This time, a tight smile of her own makes its presence known on her face too, "You meet a lot of people everyday." 

A tiny chuckle leaves his mouth then, and he feels his cheeks become pink ever so slightly. He's not embarrassed to blush in front of Lisa. If anything, she's one of the people who understands him best and won't hold any judgement against him for being an Alpha who blushes. It's part because of his skin, he knows that -- damn Irish genes -- but Steve's always been like this. The deep insecurities that haunted him for most of his youth are still there, hiding behind muscles and raw strength that do only so much to mitigate them. 

If anything, his self consciousness grew even more since his new body became the center of public attention, the object of so much thirst and shameless ogling that are remarkably upsetting and overwhelming. 

"I know," He finally says, "But this one's different… and special." 

"Mhm." Lisa hums, her calming Beta scent putting a comfortable ease in Steve's chest, wrapping around him like a warm, soothing hug. It's not hard. He can do this. "What makes this person special to you?" 

_Everything_ , he wants to say. Everything about Bucky is so special to Steve. From the way his eyes twinkle when he talks about space and robots, to the cute dimples in his cheeks when he shows that gorgeous smile. From his adorable tendency to ramble about all the things he's passionate about, to the way he blushes, _oh_ he blushes so pretty, whenever Steve compliments him or gives him a certain look. And his scent, _oh God,_ his sweet scent is to die for. He smells like heaven, an intoxicating mixture of strawberries and sweet chocolate that makes Steve want to taste and scent every inch of his skin. 

Steve's addicted to him. _Already_. With heart and body and soul. 

"He…" Steve trails off, choosing carefully his words, before deciding to just go for honesty, "He makes me feel like nobody ever has." 

Before his eyes are swimming images of Bucky, the same ones that have been replaying in his head all day and night. He sees Bucky happy with a chocolate donut in his hands, and briefly Steve wonders which one would be the sweetest. He sees Bucky's adorable frown when he's deep in thought and sees the way he scrunches his nose when he laughs. He feels the flutter it brings into his heart. 

The cupid bow of his lips, the dimple in his chin, the soft locks of hair framing his gorgeous face, the inviting spot on his neck that Steve wants to bury himself into for the rest of his days. He sees all of that and more, and it's maddening, how much it drives him crazy with want and desire. 

"And how is that?" 

If words could just explain that, it would be easy to say. "I… I feel…" Biting on his lip, Steve trails off once more into silence. 

Lisa doesn't say anything for a couple of minutes; she never does when he allows himself to think. It's part of the reason why she's the best therapist of the many he's changed over the years. She lets him think, lets him work over his own feelings with her silent support, and Steve is so grateful for that. Maybe it's just something about her, but there must be a reason why she's helped him find his way out of his depression like no one else did before. 

"I feel like he doesn't judge me for, you know…" He shrugs with one shoulder "I feel like I can be just Steve with him. I don't have to pretend, or be strong and invulnerable, and he appreciates me for that." 

Not once has Bucky asked him about what he does with the Avengers. Not once he's tried to talk about Captain America throwing his shield around or punching aliens or showing off his muscles for entertainment. Bucky didn't seem to care about that, and it was a relief to finally have a change of topic in the conversations Steve has to sustain.

What he was interested in instead were Steve's hobbies, his opinions on books and movies, his favourite foods and types of music. He wanted to know all the places Steve's gone to during his year and a half of wandering like a nomad around the world, and he got so excited when Steve said that he's been to New Zealand. For some reason Bucky loves New Zealand -- it might be something about sheep or hobbits, how cute -- and Steve… well now he thinks he loves it too. 

Bucky asked about his life before the serum, and didn't show any signs of pity and sorry for Steve's miserable state. ("I got bullied all the time too. It sucks.") he said, and Steve was overcome both by a sudden urge to cry and gather him in his arms and flamboyant rage against whoever hurt his precious Bucky, whoever dared to make him cry. 

But what did it for Steve, what ultimately placed the last piece in the puzzle, was finding out that he's always been an inspiration for Bucky. Not his shield, not his uniform, and not even his super strength, but _him_. The scrawny kid from Brooklyn with a head too big for his own good, the one who hated bullies and loved his mother's pie. The one that saw the good in the world and fought for it with all he had, even if it was just bony knuckles and too loud opinions. 

When Bucky said that, Steve felt his heart finally settle. It was like everything fell into place for a few beautiful moments. 

"That's good, Steve." And yes, Steve thinks, it might be good. It can be good. 

"I feel like I belong with him, Lisa." Steve whispers, "I can be myself and he's just… _content_ with that. I think… I think he might make me happy." 

"Well, he seems pretty special then." Lisa is smiling, and he knows that she's actually and authentically happy for him. "Do you want to tell me about him?" 

Steve does. He tells her everything, from their first accidental encounter a couple of weeks ago, to the mortification he felt when he knocked Bucky on the ground. He tells her about the way Bucky's scent makes him think of home, a concept he'd buried in a cold grave way too long ago, but now it gives him hope again. 

_Hope._ Something that Steve treats like fragile glass in his hands. It's not easy to believe again after all that he's been through. Faith left him a long time ago, in a remote lifetime when he was just an eighteen year old boy that lost his mother in the blink of an eye. She was Steve's rock, his anchor and strength. When she left him, all her promises did too. 

But Bucky lights up that flame again. And Steve wants him, wants to keep him forever because he never thought he could feel anything remotely close to happiness again, but now he does. It scares him so much, but then Bucky comes and sweeps him off his feet all over again, gives him a look through his big round eyes and gifts him smiles that shine brighter than the sun, and Steve just feels everything melt away. 

It'd be so easy to give in… to whatever this is, but the thing is, it's not easy at all. 

For all he knows, Bucky could just be pretending. Steve could just be fooling himself over and over again, thinking that Bucky sees something in him while in fact it's the complete opposite. Steve has always been too good at fooling himself. 

"It's not often that we find the right people for us in our life, Steve." Lisa says at some point, "But just because it happens rarely doesn't mean it won't happen at all."

"Do you think… do you think he's right for me?" 

"That's up to you to decide." She smiles fondly, "Do _you_ think he's right for you?" 

Steve thinks about it. Chews on his lip and broods over the question for a few quiet minutes. He knows that Bucky is right for him, knows that he ticks all the boxes, but love is a two way street, and Steve is so afraid of being the only one walking it. 

"I don't think I'm right for him." 

The words stumble out of his mouth before he can even think about saying them, and he's left surprised, shocked, astonished. 

Saying them out loud brings a whole new confession to the surface, one he's been avoiding all this time in hopes of cancelling it from reality in some kind of way. But now the die is cast, and Steve's not sure if he's ready to face the truth. 

Thing is, no matter how much the prospect of being with Bucky enthrals him and plants dreams and illusions in his heart, there's always a small voice in the back of his head that's too loud to be brushed aside. He simply can't ignore it when he knows that what it says is the truth: that this, all of this, is just _wrong_. 

One, because Bucky is simply so young, so pure for this world, and Steve's nothing more than a sad old man out of time. He’d be lying if he said that the age difference doesn’t bother him. It does, and he feels guilty for growing feelings for a twenty-something Omega. He’s just a kid, for fuck’s sake. He’s smart and brilliant and amazing, he’s got all his life ahead and Steve would never take that away from him. What can he offer to Bucky? The answer is nothing. Nothing that he deserves. 

And does the age difference bother Bucky too? Would it bother his family and friends? It probably would, so Steve’s left standing with his feet on two opposite grounds. He should be able to just make the rational decision and do the right thing, but his feelings keep pulling him in the opposite direction, and everything is just horribly wrong. 

Two, because Steve had absolutely no right to go feral when he saw another Alpha trying to claim Bucky. Steve would've rushed to rescue anyone who happened to be trapped in that situation, there's no doubt in that, but when he found out that it was Bucky, he lost every ounce of control. 

The memory of Bucky's screams and cries still echoes in his head, it ignites an implacable fire in his chest that has no right to be there. Because Bucky's not his, not _his Omega_ , and maybe it was wrong of him to even take him out for that coffee yesterday. Bucky was still recovering, and Steve can't help but feel like he took advantage of him, gathering his hand in his and locking their ankles under the table, brushing his soft hair and taking him on his motorcycle. 

But Bucky seemed to like him back, right?

That kiss on the cheek must've meant something. _Right?_

Fuck. Steve is losing his mind. 

No matter how hard he tries to deny his feelings and bury them somewhere he can't reach, they shamelessly keep popping back like a catchy tune that's stuck in his head, they keep springing up like mushrooms after the rain. 

"What are you afraid of, Steve?" Lisa cuts in once he's finished telling her all of that and more. 

These days, Steve is afraid of too many things to count them on his hands. People still think of him as the lion hearted Captain America, the bravest hero who eats fear for breakfast and is never weak. Steve is not that person. 

"I…" Be trails off again, because what is he really scared of actually? Of hurting? Of being fooled and heartbroken? Of breaking Bucky's heart instead? 

"I know it's scary, Steve," Her voice soft, Lisa always seems to be able to soothe his nerves and make him see clearer, "But in order to live, we have to get out of our comfort zone sometimes. I know people haven't been kind to you too many times in your life. That doesn't have to let you lose your faith." 

"I know." 

"If he's worth it, you'll know what to do, Steve." 

Helplessly trying to fight back a smile, Steve, in that moment, knows that Bucky Barnes is definitely worth everything. 

Which is why, an endless hour later, he's finally reached the Tower. 

He's definitely double questioning all his life choices as he stands just outside the robotics lab, where he knows a certain cute intern is, jittery with nerves and anticipation and excitement that he's never experienced before on such a high level. 

Whatever, he's not backing out now. Especially when there's an unexplained, primal desire urging him on, pushing him to go past that door and follow his heart, scoop Bucky in his arms and kiss him into next week. 

Which he obviously won't do. Steve's too respectful to just kiss someone out of the blue. But maybe he can ask? Pretty please? With a bouquet of flowers in hand?

"Get it together, Rogers." He whispers his own little pep talk, bouncing on his feet with anxiety and trying to calm his racing heart. 

With fistfuls of courage, Steve takes a deep breath and steps inside, and his head grows dizzy for a moment as he's engulfed by Bucky's sweet and heavenly scent.

And he's suddenly right there in front of Steve’s eyes. Leaning over the table with his cute little glasses and cute little bun, tweezers and wires in hand as he examines them with an adorable frown. 

God, he’s so beautiful, so pretty it's a sight to behold, and Steve needs a few seconds to rub two brain cells together in order to form a coherent thought that doesn't involve hugs or kisses or scenting or making love. 

"H-hey, Buck." 

There's a tiny gasp, and then Bucky's head snaps up to look at him, blue eyes wide and stunning, the prettiest shade of pink already covering his cheeks. 

"Steve?" 

* * *

Jesus. He's not gonna have anything done by the end of the day if Steve keeps being like this. And what's worse is that he _likes_ it. 

"Stop looking at me." He chuckles, blushing and a little exasperated, and even though his face is turned away from the blond he knows that he's being watched, can feel it on every burning inch of his skin. 

"Why? Am I distracting you or something?" Steve's leant closer, his breath fanning over his neck as he teases him, and Bucky can't suppress the goosebumps that crowd his skin at the feeling even if he tries to. 

Stomach swooping, Bucky does look at the blond this time, peeks at him from under his eyelashes and puts on an annoyed pout, fakes it even though he knows Steve's aware that he's not serious. He's completely about to melt, in fact, with Steve's body basically plastered to his and _oh God,_ it's so nice. Steve's so warm and big and all hard muscles and Bucky's drowning in his scent, wants to smell it forever, wants to smell like _him_.

It's part the reason he's boldly shimmied closer and closer to Steve in the past ten minutes until their bodies were touching, and that alone is probably the most distracting thing in the world. Bucky's pretty sure that he's messed up 83% of the wiring that he's assembling by now, but hey, who the fuck cares. Steve doesn't know that.

It makes him feel weird and giddy to think that right here, in the robotics lab, they're in the same exact place they met a couple weeks ago. They're leaning on their elbows over the working table as Bucky tries to make something out of a bundle of microchips and wires. It should upset him that someone is distracting him from work that he's been denied for a never-ending week, but with Steve Bucky feels like he's flying, like he's on an endless rollercoaster and his stomach is swooping and fluttering at every word Steve says, at every small touch, at every glance he not so subtly gives his way.

Just like _right now._ He's supposed to be watching what Bucky is doing, not Bucky's face! He can't do this to Bucky, it's terribly illegal, he can't act like this and watch him with those gorgeous blue eyes like he's the only thing he sees. And let's not talk about the happy Alpha scent he's letting out, which in turn makes Bucky let out his own happy Omega scent and fuck. It’s not supposed to feel this good.

"You are _very_ distracting, Rogers." He says after the longest two seconds of staring contest, "You shouldn't be distracting interns at their work like this, you know?"

Steve's chuckle right about fills his whole heart. "You're not stopping me from distracting you, mister." He remarks, all smug and cocky with his deep voice and bumps his shoulder against Bucky's, even though they're already literally glued to each other.

Bucky's face is on fire, but he just rolls his eyes and looks back at the thing in his hands, pretending like the comment didn't just give him a serious case of stomach butterflies and noodle legs, and yet he still feels Steve's eyes on him, feels the heat in them and the smirk on his face. 

"I should." He tuts, not bothering to hide the smile that's threatening to break his cheeks, "I should build a tiny space ship and send you away in space, you know? So you don't distract me anymore."

"Aw c'mon, you wouldn't do that, sweetheart." Steve whines and Bucky's heart almost explodes in his chest. "What would you do if I was gone?"

Bucky's too busy trying to catch his breath and bring it back to normal to reply, his blush burning to the tip of his ears. _Sweetheart_. It echoes in his mind and makes everything fuzzy for a few, blissful moments, and Bucky inadvertently leans closer to Steve's side, basking in his warmth.

"I didn't say you'd go alone." It's barely a whisper, because eh, he's a little breathless, heart thundering in his chest, but he knows Steve can hear it.

He still can't look at him, and the wiring in his hands has been just standing there for the past five minutes because he doesn't care about that anymore. All he can focus on is the way his legs feel like they're made of air and bubbles, the way the tingle in his belly makes him want to whimper, the way he's hypersensitive in every spot his body is touching Steve's.

"I like your glasses." Steve says softly all of a sudden. "They look really good on you." 

Here he is with the compliments again. Bucky's gonna die sooner or later if this guy doesn't cut him some slack. Dropping the wires on the table, Bucky unconsciously brings his hand to his glasses to adjust them a little on his nose, and then lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. "Do you shower all people with compliments like this?" 

When he finally turns to look at Steve, his smile is reaching his eyes, making them twinkle with something playful. "Only the ones I like." He shrugs, shamelessly letting his eyes trace patterns over Bucky's face, especially his eyes, especially his _lips_. 

"Shut up." Bucky swats Steve's bicep, trying to ignore his poor thumping heart that's trying to jump out of his chest and directly into Steve's hands. 

"Make me." 

And–

And Bucky kisses him. 

Without thinking, his body does it for him and he just… leans that tiny bit forward and aims for Steve's lips, locking his own with them and punching a surprised gasp from Steve. Or maybe himself. Probably both. 

Then there's the soft tickle of Steve's breath on his cheek, and suddenly the reality of what he's done is crashing hard over him like Niagara falls. 

He pulls back so quickly it almost gives him whiplash, and he stares at Steve's flabbergasted expression with horror and _oh my God._

He just kissed Steve. 

"Um…" Wide eyed, Bucky just keeps staring at Steve, watches him stand to his full height and turn to face him directly. 

He's red in the face, mouth open with unspoken words, and if that's how Steve looks, Bucky wonders how's the situation with himself. Pretty bad probably, judging by the fire burning in his cheeks and chest and belly.

"I… I.." The flutter of his heart seems to have stolen all his capacities of speech, and no matter how mortified or shocked he is, he just can't stop looking at Steve. 

Steve, who is standing mere inches in front of him, gazing down at him with awe and a bright smile. He looks even taller from up close, Bucky's head barely reaching his chin, and it's _so hot._

Why is it so hot in the room? 

"Do you make every guy shut up like that?" Oh fuck, Steve's voice has changed. It's a low, raspy rumble that makes Bucky shiver all over. It takes him a full minute to unglue his tongue from his gums and rediscover the ability of speech again. 

"I uh…" Bucky swallows and prays his brain to just start working again through the stupid fog that's formed around it, which is totally not because of Steve's intoxicating scent engulfing him like the warmest blanket. 

"O-only the ones I like?" 

He's honestly surprised it's that, of all things, what comes out of his mouth, but he ultimately stops thinking when Steve chuckles, and it's then that he realises how close they're standing. And for the record, it's very close. 

He doesn't remember Steve's face moving forward until it's almost touching his own, the tip of his nose tickling Bucky's, and he sure as hell doesn't remember Steve's hand settling on his cheek, but now that his brain is back online, now that he feels it– _ohh._

"Shut me up again?" Steve murmurs, the gentle puff of his breath landing on Bucky's lips, and when his hand slides to the back of his neck, Bucky's knees buckle like precarious little clay sticks. 

But in the end, he somehow does shut him up, and they're suddenly kissing again, soft lips dancing and gliding together, wet and hot. Steve's hand remains on the back of his neck, firm and possessive, but making him feel safe at the same time, while the other one finds its way to his hip and Bucky doesn't know the concept of solid body anymore. 

He feels like a stupid, molten puddle of goo and fireworks in Steve's arms, and the swooping in his belly mixes with the tingle in his core to the point where he can't stop tiny gasps and whimpers from leaving his mouth. 

Steve seems to like that, his scent spiking and sharpening as he emits a deep groan from the back of his throat, the hand holding onto Bucky's hip tightening its grip for a fraction of a second before he suddenly pulls away. 

Bucky's panting, eyes closed and mouth stretched in a helpless smile as he rests his forehead against Steve's chest, hoping to shush the crazy beat of his heart before he dies right there. 

"Bucky?" 

"Mm?" 

The silence stretches for a few long seconds, and when Bucky musters the courage to look up into Steve's eyes again, they’re filled with stars and galaxies and something that Bucky’s too afraid to catalog in that moment, but he inevitably gives up when it’s Steve who catalogs it for him.

"I really like you." Steve whispers, voice shaky with the weight of his confession, and Bucky thinks he wants to cry but also tell Steve that yes, he really _really_ likes him too. 

He doesn't do any of the two in the end. It'd be too hard for his poor mushy brain, so he settles for what's easy and honest, wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and leans up on his tiptoes to kiss him again, and again, and again, until there’s nothing left for him to do but swim in complete bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and for the kind comments!
> 
> Let me know what you think ❤️


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter ahead, get ready and hold onto your butts because... Bucky's about to meet Steve's penis :D

"Sharon?" 

"Hm?" 

For a few minutes Bucky doesn't say anything, letting the soft rock music playing in the background fill the air and his mope-induced silence. Sharon doesn't push it, maybe because she's nice like that, or maybe because her mind simply brushed Bucky's question aside and got occupied with something else. 

Probably with the twenty or so boxes of vinyls she has to restore. 

"Sharon." Bucky tries again, voice breaking into a little waver as he hopes she gets on track and immediately knows what's on his mind. Well, Sharon ain't no mind reader and she can't provide the comfort he's seeking until he tells what the issue is in the first place, and he knows it's stupid and pathetic, but he cares about Sam, he loves him, and it's been five fucking days of… whatever this is, and Bucky can't really stand it anymore. 

"Yes, Bucky?" A flick of brown eyes pins him in place, "Do I need to hold your hand through this or can you say what you need to say on your own?" 

Sometimes he forgets that Sharon's sharp as a tack and that she can read through people as if they're made of glass… but maybe it’s Bucky that’s just transparent like that. 

Although he'd gladly accept a hand in his own right now -- like it could soften the sharp edges of a truth he doesn't want to know -- Bucky sighs and gathers his crumbled courage together and speaks. 

"Is Sam still mad at me?" 

Yikes. He hates how small and whiny he sounds. 

"He _still_ hasn't talked to you...?" Sharon sounds only half surprised, and it's the _'still'_ that makes Bucky realise that she's been talking to Sam over the past days more than he has. He tries to ignore the little pang of jealousy in his heart upon thinking about his best friend ignoring him and favouring other people over him.

Well, it's not like Sharon's just anyone. They've been friends with her for a few years now, especially Sam since they met on campus here in New York, but Bucky is still supposed to be his bestest friend, the one he's shared every secret with since Kindergarten, the one he comes to whenever he has something to say, the one he cooks his special tater tots for and that gives the greatest hugs to. 

Pushing the irrational sting of jealousy out of his chest, Bucky just shakes his head and looks down at his hands. His feet are swinging anxiously as he sits on top of the three step ladder, and the prolonged silence that engulfs him doesn't help ease his mind. 

What if Sam hates him? What if he doesn't want to be his friend anymore? What if… Oh God, what if he's jealous? That would complicate a lot of things. Too many things. Cosmic laws would be dismantled if that be the case.

"Sharon," He looks up at her with pleading eyes, "Please tell me what's going on." 

Face unreadable as ever, Sharon keeps quiet for the following sixteen seconds (it's not like Bucky counts them, but he does) while she puts the last vinyls in the P section of the shelf, before finally pushing the empty box aside and straightening up, facing Bucky. 

"He's not mad." She says, her tone firm and so sure of it, "He thinks he is, but you know Sam... give him time and he'll let the wind knock some sense through his thick skull and he'll come back to you." 

"But, Sharon, he's never ignored me for more than two days before!" Bucky can feel the hot prickle of tears at his eyes, "I… I don't– I don't want to lose my best friend for reasons I– I don’t even know! I apologised and explained, so what's–" 

"Bucky," Her softs hands are suddenly cupping his face, forcing his red rimmed eyes to look up into hers, "Calm down, will ya? You're not gonna lose him, okay? Never, I can assure you of that, I promise. Okay?" 

"Okay." Bucky sniffles and wipes furiously at his eyes with his sleeves, "But–" 

"No buts." Sharon's hands leave his face to settle on his shoulders, "You know how important you two are to each other, you know he cares about you too much to just leave. He's just… he's real worried about you Bucky, you need to understand that." 

The thing is, Bucky _does_ understand that. If there's someone who knows how protective Sam can get it's definitely him. Sam is a natural mother hen, the instincts to protect and care for the people he loves are just ingrained inside him (Bucky thinks he inherited that from Auntie Flor), and Bucky appreciates it. Some days it gets on his nerves, but it's alright. 

It just doesn't explain why Sam has been avoiding him for five days. There's uncomfortable, crammed tension whenever they're together in the same room, and the only spoken words are mostly Bucky’s. He's been trying to make things less awkward, starting conversations that usually end up in either deep philosophical theories or stupid giggle fits that leave them both choking on their breaths, but nothing has worked so far. 

Sam just grumbles something in response, gives him the stink eye and retreats to his room. 

It… it kinda started hurting after day two, and then every day more and more, and now Bucky's on the verge of crying. Cool. 

"But… he doesn't want to talk to me…" 

"You hurt him, that's why." 

Oh. 

"What… what do you mean?" He asks hesitantly with a confused look, watching Sharon begin to open a new box that reads Q-R on top of it. 

With a loud sigh, signaling that she's absolutely done with their shit, Sharon gives him a stern look as her hands hold a Queen _'Greatest Hits'_ album. 

"What I mean is… that you should have told him that you were going out that day, and most importantly that you were on a date with–" 

"It wasn't a–" 

"Hush." Her glare slices the space between them, "Whatever it was, you should have let Sam know that you weren't going to be home, even if you were _strictly supposed to_ if I remember well." 

"I was fine–" 

"AND it was stupid to go out with a stranger, an Alpha to be precise, knowing that it would give Sam a heart attack after what happened to you–" 

"He's not a stran–" 

"THEREFORE, you hurt Sam's feelings because he thought you trust him to tell him everything, but then you go and sneak around on dates and purposefully hide it from him for no reason. He's acting like he’s mad at you because he's an Alpha with a pebble brain, but he's just moping because he thinks you don't see him as your best friend anymore enough to tell him about a dude you go 'round riding Harleys with. Does it sink, Bucky Barnes?"

Gaping at her with wide eyes, Bucky carefully counts the beats of his thrumming heart as the information sinks in. 

He's not… he didn't evaluate this point of perspective. 

Sharon's right, and Bucky secretly hates that.

"Fuck…" He scrubs at his face with his hands, whining into them. 

"Yeah, mister." Sharon quips, "He was actually ready to get over it, but then you come home the next day reeking of Alpha again and Sam just kinda lost it... What did you even do to smell so much like that guy?" 

Cheeks flaming, Bucky ducks his head and can't help a small smile from tugging at his lips at the memory of the events from last Friday. 

He and Steve made out like teenagers for approximately fifteen minutes before Jarvis (God bless him) alerted them of Tony's presence nearing the lab, and that led to an inevitable escalation of sad little events. 

First, Steve had to rush out of the lab hoping not to get caught, while Bucky got back to his stupid wires, pretending like hadn't been shoving his tongue down Steve's mouth all that time when Tony came in. 

If Stark noticed Bucky's giddy smile and faint blush while he continued working (aka: messing up everything and making a disaster out of the wires because he couldn't stop thinking of Steve kissing him) well he didn't say anything about it, thankfully. 

Although, thinking about it now, Tony could definitely smell Steve all over him, and it probably took nothing to connect the dots. 

Whatever. 

"We um… we kissed?" 

"Bitch!" Tossing the box aside, Sharon is suddenly in his face with wide, incredulous eyes, "Wait, wait, what?! You can't just go boyfriending around and not tell your friends. C'mon, talk. I'm all ears."

"Jeez, calm down." He shoves her away with a scowl, "We just kissed a bit and that's it." 

"He scent you?" 

Blushing, Bucky hides his eyes and avoids her gaze, "No… I mean kinda? We didn't _scent_ scent." 

How he _wished_ Steve would scent him. He was expecting it any moment and was ready to go home with Steve's smell imprinted in his skin, but apparently Steve won't do anything without permission -- the little consent freak, he's absolutely perfect -- so they just got well acquainted with each other's lips and tongues in the remaining minutes they had, and that's it. 

Which left him kind of disappointed. Steve didn't even give him his number or something, and without having the possibility to go to the Tower over the weekend Bucky didn't have any chance to run into him. 

So there's a remarkably uncomfortable elephant in the metaphorical room between him and Steve. Bucky's stupid brain has already come up with three thousand theories about Steve deciding he doesn't like him or that he's an awfully shitty kisser, but he's tried to ignored those toxic little voices most of the time. It's just… disappointing. And Bucky misses Steve. Misses his warmth and smile and kisses, and most of all he misses his perfect scent, 'cause it already wore off from his clothes since yesterday's laundry. 

So, if Sam smelled Steve on Bucky when he got home, it was purely from kissing and hugging alone. 

"Aw shucks." Sharon grimaces, "And then? Did he ask you out? You got his number? Are you already on the boyfriend stage? Did he–" 

"Sharon." 

“Sorry.” She giggles, “It’s just, I’ve never seen you dating people and all that–”

“Hold on!” A voice yells from behind, and Bucky closes his eyes and inhales deeply, bracing himself for–

“Bucky is _dating!?_ ”

There it is.

“Why does nobody tell me the cool stuff here?” A flash of blonde hair zooms by his side, and then Pietro is standing right there, looking at Bucky with what could only be described as betrayal, “Come on now, Buckeeto, spill the tea. Who is she.”

Bucky is by no means spilling any tea on his secret crush, especially to someone as nosy as Pietro, so he keeps his mouth shut and glares at the Alpha with all his power–

“It’s a he.” Sharon, the traitor, “This huge, sexy, blond hunk that rides a Harley. He's an Alpha, all muscles everywhere and _oh my God_ he smells like heaven.”

“Wh– how do you know how Steve smells–”

“I smelled him on you the other day–”

“Bucky likes boys?”

“He likes boys exclusively.”

“Oh my God, you’re _gay_?! Since when?!”

"Since he found out how dicks work–" 

“Can we all SHUT UP?!”

The record store has no customers at the moment -- Bucky doubts it ever has more than two people in at the same time anyway -- otherwise he would be concerned if someone had to hear him shouting. The silence that rings in his ears after he finally shuts them up is almost deafening.

Sharon is visibly suppressing her giggles as she turns back to the records, while Pietro looks like a beaten little puppy.

“You’re mean.” He pouts, jutting out his bottom lip, and Bucky just rolls his eyes because God, he needs better friends.

“And you’re annoying.” 

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are." Sharon says, throwing a pointed look over her shoulder at Pietro, "And stop standing there with nothing to do. Move your ass and help me." 

Pietro pouts harder and grumbles something under his breath, before he joins her and starts opening a new box of records. Smiling, Bucky marvels at the way Sharon never lets anyone push her around. She's fierce, a spitfire in a lithe body of an Omega and Bucky loves that about her. She doesn't care if she's talking to an Alpha or not, Sharon stands her own ground and doesn't cower in front of an act of dominance. 

Pietro wouldn't dare use his Alpha against her. It would just lead to a pissed Sharon and no one wants to experience that. 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, Bucky's leg bobbing rhythmically as _Roxanne_ by _The Police_ plays in the background. His thoughts idly drift to what will happen later when Sam comes back home. 

Bucky's gonna speak to him, they're gonna have a Talk and this ridiculous situation will be over. Anxiety is already eating him from the inside out at the thought of having to confront his best friend on this, but Bucky's a promising adult and he'll sustain a conversation like a promising adult should. Period. 

"So," Bucky's head jerks up when Pietro speaks, "Have you ever? You know…" 

"What…?" Bucky frowns at the blond's typical smug little smirk, and he wonders what shit he's up to this time. 

"Liked me?" Pietro finishes with a quirk of his eyebrow, and Sharon's laughter practically explodes out of her. 

"What? No!" Bucky's face is debating whether it should twist into a laugh or a cry, because really? 

"Why?" 

"Because–" Spluttering and waving his hands dramatically, Bucky tries to give the least offensive honest answer, "You're you." 

"That's not a good answer, Buckeeto." Pietro winks, "'Cause as far as I know I'm fantastic. And smart. And brilliant. And sexy. And beaut–" 

"He has a boyfriend, Pietro." Sharon gasps with the remnants of her laughter from where she's still doubled over, and Bucky can't help but blush again. 

"He's not my boyfriend." _Yet_ , he wants to say. 

"He will be." The blonde reassures, patting his cheek with her hand and retracting it before he bites it off. 

"So, tell us everything about this boyfriend. Is he hung?" Pietro quips, and Bucky suddenly feels a lot like going home. 

“That’s it, I’m done!” Bucky throws his hands in the air and jumps off the ladder, “It was nice to meet you all, see you in a few years.”

“Oh come on!” Pietro follows him towards the door, “You still haven't denied that you like me.”

“I'll leave you guessing then." Zipping his jacket up, the collar covers half the smirk Bucky throws over his shoulder, "Someone's gotta keep you on your toes." 

"I'll take that as a yes then, babe." And Bucky knows Pietro's joking, but the thought of what Steve would do if he saw him flirting with Bucky creeps into his mind and leaves him a little bit too curious. Jealous Steve would be hot as fuck. 

"Hey, Bucky." Sharon breaks him out of his sudden daze and comes in front of him, "Be careful alright?" 

Smiling, Bucky welcomes her in his open arms. "Don't worry." His words are muffled by her soft, blonde hair, "And yes, I _will_ text you when I get home, I promise." 

"Good." She pinches his cheeks when they pull apart, "Go get your Sammy now." 

"Will do." Bucky salutes, before he backtracks towards the door and finally steps out onto the street, and a shiver immediately shakes him from head to toe. 

What the fuck, it’s so cold. Bucky knows that it's still winter, it's normal for the temperature to be so low three days into February, but it's so fucking freezing it should be illegal, god damn it. 

Tucking his face deeper under the collar of his jacket, Bucky starts his hurried march towards the nearest subway station. The faster he gets there, the faster he'll be home where it's nice and warm. 

The streets aren’t as crowded as he expects them to be, and maybe that’s a good thing. Bucky’s never been a fan of people, and today he’s no better. It's Monday and it’s freezing, and it may be his day off but it’s still _Monday_ and Bucky’s not a fan of that one either, if the grumpy look on his face is a telltale sign.

He should've just stayed home today, but Sharon insisted he come with her to the shop she works at in Brooklyn, and now it's gonna take ages to go back to Sam's apartment all the way in Hell's Kitchen. 

With the crisp air biting at his skin, Bucky walks quickly, wary of the faces he encounters on all the other New Yorkers passing by. He’s been jumpy around strangers ever since that rando attacked him, but it’s only fair to have some residual trauma after such a horrible experience. He constantly feels like someone is watching him, but blame it on the paranoia, Bucky knows it’s stupid and he should just let go. 

There’s plenty of bad people all around, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean everyone is a scumbag.

Despite that, Bucky seems to have the worst luck known to man, because it's not even five minutes in that he feels it. 

This time it's clearly not just paranoia. Someone is following him, he can smell the pungent scent that trails behind him, can feel this person's eyes glued to the back of his skull, targeting him.

A lump grows tight in his throat, and the familiar prickle of tears already bites at the corners of his eyes. Breath picking up, Bucky doesn't dare turn around to look at his chaser, it would be over if he acknowledged their presence, so he speeds up, legs moving faster despite the tremors that now run under his skin.

But the footsteps only seem to get closer and closer no matter how fast he walks. He's almost running now, lip trembling and sniffling as he goes with fear filling his chest. Why does it always have to be him? Bucky just wants to go home safe, is that too much to ask these days?

"Hey, sugar, what's the hurry for?" 

Oh God that… that's a woman. He's being followed by a woman and Bucky has no idea what to do because it never happened before. 

"What's a pretty thing like you doing so lonely on the streets?" The Alpha falls in step with him now, and Bucky feels his stomach drop. 

"Please leave me alone." He pleads, _whines_ , and speeds up just a bit more, but the woman suddenly grabs his arm and jerks him back with force. 

"No!" Bucky turns and yanks his arm back. "Don't touch me!" He snarls and watches the woman raise her hands in mock defeat. She's skinny, taller than him, and she very much looks like a viper. 

"Feisty one, huh?" She grins and steps closer again, not giving up, and Bucky sees _red_. 

It's a feeling mixed with fear and injustice, a fire suddenly blasting from his heart that makes Bucky throw a punch in her direction, but when his fist hits something hard and unmoving he almost tumbles back from the impact because _holy shit,_ was that bricks? 

Blinking the fog out of his eyes, Bucky finds himself staring at someone's back, broad shoulders shielding him from the woman and–

"Steve?" 

Bucky's brain screeches all of a sudden. That's Steve. That's totally him, what the hell. And he's growling, standing with his back ramrod straight in an aggressive stance.

"Back off." He snarls at the woman, baring his teeth and standing tall with all his Alpha glory, shoulders squared and nostrils flaring and _oh God._

Bucky just stands awkwardly behind Steve and watches the scene with incredulous eyes. Steve's scent is overwhelming, it's so strong and sharp and if anyone had to smell it they wouldn't dare test their luck and poke fun at him. Because that's Steve being a protective, pissed off Alpha, and while it turns Bucky's insides into a pathetic mush, it certainly isn't the same for the woman in front of them.

"S-sorry I– it's just–" The Alpha stumbles over her words with wide, terrified eyes, pale in the face and clumsily waving her hands, "He's unmated and– I didn't know he was yours–" 

"Unmated or not it doesn't fucking give you the right to violate him." Steve grits out with his angry Alpha voice, "Now _back. off._ " 

Oh God. Steve is terrifying. Terrifyingly hot, and his possessive Alpha scent shouldn't make Bucky so weak at the knees. It's having the right effect on the other Alpha, that's for sure, but on Bucky… he'd lay down and show his belly to Steve if he asked without so much as a word of protest. 

The woman keeps stuttering and nodding as she backtracks, and the events unroll before Bucky’s eyes as if they were a dream.

Steve doesn’t make a move until the other Alpha is out of sight, and only then he seems to relax a bit, before he turns around to face Bucky with a tight expression pinched on his face.

“Buck… are you okay?”

Bucky’s heart is still running a marathon in his chest, his breaths short and hitched and he just gawks at Steve. The blond opens his arms and Bucky falls into them with a sigh. 

“Steve. Thank you.” He mumbles, shivering and melting at the same time when Steve pulls him in tighter, wrapping one arm around his waist and cupping the back of his head with the other hand, cradling him close in an act that’s both comforting and possessive.

“It’s okay, Bucky.” The butterflies in his belly are performing acrobatics when Steve kisses the top of his head, “You’re safe now, baby.”

Bucky’s heart absolutely doesn’t burst a little when Steve calls him _baby_ , except it does and he’s positively sure the whimper he lets out against the blond’s chest is utterly embarrassing. Steve just tightens his arms around Bucky’s smaller frame and coaxes his head higher, higher until his face is safely tucked in Steve’s neck. Bucky inhales, eyelids fluttering when Steve's wonderful scent overwhelms his senses and

that’s it. That's all it takes for him to just melt, body going lax and soft when Steve purrs, _he actually purrs_ , the sound meant to calm Bucky down and make him feel good and _God_ , it does.

It feels so good, like everything is suddenly right, and Steve is the most wonderful person on the planet.

He doesn’t count how many minutes pass as they stay like that, Steve gently murmuring sweet things into his ear, rubbing his back and subtly scenting him, but when they slowly pull back Bucky has a stupid, dreamy smile plastered on his face.

Steve is smiling too, gazing down at him with shimmering eyes, “Okay?”

Bucky’s brain is a little offline, sue him, so he’s thankful when his nod is a good enough response. 

It’s only then that he takes a better look at Steve. He’s wearing a grey hoodie and a pair of black joggers. Cheeks tinted pink -- maybe from the cold, maybe because he’s been running, maybe from something else -- he looks amazing even in workout clothes, a little sweaty and with his hair all mussed up. Cute. (And hot). 

“Um…” Bucky escapes Steve’s embrace but doesn’t go far, standing close so that Steve’s arm remains around his waist, right where it should be, “You were running?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, his face doing something complicated all of a sudden, “God, Bucky I… I smelled you and I… what are you doing here?” 

Bucky feels the edge in Steve’s voice, his tone is protective, worried, almost reprimanding. _Alpha_. Bucky shivers, and this time it’s not because of the cold.

“I… I stopped by a friend’s shop.” Bucky’s thumb points behind him, Steve's eyes zeroing on the movement, “And w-was going to the subway.”

Somehow, admitting that to Steve makes him feel both guilty and ashamed, and he blushes, embarrassingly so, feeling hot under Steve’s heavy gaze for some insane reason. 

“Come on.” Steve sighs, kisses his forehead, “Let’s go.”

Bucky swallows an irrational lump in his throat and nods dumbly, following obediently as Steve leads them down the streets. He’s glad Steve’s arm is supporting him, because his brain-to-limb coordination is so fucked up right now that he’d probably wiggle his way down to the ground like a jiggly octopus if he were to stand by himself. 

Steve using his Alpha tone on him has no right to make him so breathless and stupid and turned on at the same time. He likes it though, holy crackers, he likes it _so much_ it’s not even funny.

“Where are we going?” He breathes, looking around and vaguely assessing his surroundings. They're going to Park Slope according to the street signs, and it's not that Bucky knows his ways around Brooklyn much -- except where to find the subway stations and Sharon's shop -- so he pushes away the wary and alarmed voice from his head and relaxes, because he's with Steve, he trusts him and he's safe. 

Steve peers down at him with a sweet smile, “Home.” Is the only thing he says, an answer Bucky doesn't expect, and it’s such a small, stupid word, but Bucky thinks he falls in love a little bit right then and there.

They walk in silence for a while until Bucky remembers that he very much punched Steve mere minutes ago. "Sorry." He mumbles, biting his lip to prevent from either laughing or wincing, he doesn't know. 

"What for?" 

"I punched you." And why does he feel so guilty? He knows it probably didn't even hurt Steve, but there's something about Steve now that makes him want to cower and be good and it's confusing. 

"It's okay, baby." Steve presses another kiss to his temple and God, he has to stop doing that, "I'm glad I was there for you to punch me." 

_Me too_ , Bucky thinks, but doesn't say anything as the traffic chaos swallows all the other sounds when they cross the road. 

They don't speak after that. Steve doesn't for some unknown reason, Bucky doesn't because Steve is silent and he looks pissed, jaw clenched tight and scent sharp with a note of distress. It makes Bucky feel small, makes him want to bury his face in Steve's neck and beg him to stop doing that. He doesn't want Steve to be angry, especially if he's the reason behind it. 

Gradually, the streets get less crowded as they go, and it would be nice if it didn't make the elephant between them grow bigger and bigger. Bucky just ducks his head and looks at his feet, reminding himself that everything is fine, Steve is just a little shaken because someone else touched Bucky. He hopes it's that. 

Ever so quiet, Steve walks them into a nice apartment building and up the stairs to the second floor. Bucky doesn't know why he expected Steve to live in the Tower or in some million dollar mansion. He shouldn't feel as surprised as he does, Steve is a modest person after all, he openly told Bucky he likes living a normal life, average and nice. 

He keeps his hand loosely wrapped around the sleeve of Steve's hoodie as the blond quietly fishes with the keys and unlocks the door. 

Steve lets Bucky step inside first, and follows behind him to take Bucky’s jacket off.

“Thanks.” Bucky mumbles and feels his cheekbones redden like ripe cherries at being treated to Steve’s chivalry.

His eyes barely get a chance to take a good look at the apartment before Steve spins him around and kisses him. _Hard._

Bucky emits a shocked little sound into it, knees going weak when Steve's tongue boldly licks into his mouth, all of him pliantly submitting to the Alpha. He catches on several seconds later, brain coming back online and remembering how to use his tongue and lips and how to _fucking breathe_. Bucky thinks his soul might have left his body, because he literally can’t feel his limbs anymore.

The kiss is so deep, it's nothing like the playful and sweet kisses they shared a few days before in the lab. This one is claiming, powerful, Steve nibbling and licking and biting over his lips with possessiveness and need that make Bucky's toes curl in his shoes. 

Gripping Steve’s hoodie like it can save him, Bucky can’t stop the little whimpers and gasps that Steve wrings out of him with every swipe of his tongue inside his mouth. The blond’s scent has changed to something Bucky’s never smelled on Steve before. It’s possessiveness, it’s hunger and… _arousal_.

“ _Mmh..._ ” Bucky moans helplessly into Steve’s lips when he feels his body react to the Alpha’s arousal. There’s molten lava burning in his belly, goosebumps erupting on his skin and _oh God_ , he’s getting hard and _wet_ and he absolutely can’t help it.

Not when Steve keeps fucking his mouth with his tongue, one strong, controling hand curled around the back of his neck, the other one pressed to the small of his back, pulling him closer until his neck is craned and he’s on his tiptoes and there’s no space left between them.

Bucky thinks this is what Heaven feels like. But it’s also very hot, so he’s probably somewhere in Hell. Who knows.

When Steve pulls back, he doesn’t give Bucky time to catch his breath before his lips are trailing down his jaw to kiss on Bucky’s neck. He mercilessly tugs the collar of Bucky's black _The Who_ sweatshirt down and away, nosing into the skin left uncovered and growling lowly in the back of his throat. Bucky whimpers, giving in, tilting his head back to give Steve better access. 

This submissive side of him never showed up before, never like this, and it makes him want to fight back just a little bit, to prove Steve that he won't let–

Who is he kidding. The moan that erupts from him when Steve latches his lips over his scent gland and sucks speaks for him. He's submitting to Steve like a good little puppy, and he doesn't care. 

It feels too good to care. 

"Steve…" He sighs when his back suddenly hits the wall, Steve crowding him against it and keeping up the sweet torture on Bucky's neck. 

Steve grinds against him, a sinful roll of hips that makes Bucky gasp and jolt with pleasure. 

"God, baby." Another nip on his neck, then Steve's lips are by his ear, his voice like gravel when he speaks, "Don't wanna see anyone else touch you, Bucky… _I can't._ " 

Oh shit. Bucky wants to scream at the sheer possessiveness Steve is oozing. What comes out is just a helpless little gasp instead. There's so much going on at the same time -- the kisses and hickeys, the fire in his core, Steve being territorial and jealous -- Bucky can't wrap his mind around it. 

"Driving me crazy, Bucky, I swear–" Steve goes for Bucky's neck again, but the motion brings him too close and Bucky yelps when Steve steps on his foot, squishing his toes. 

"Steve!" He shrieks at the dull pain and pushes on Steve's chest, "My toes!" 

"Fuck." Steve steps back with a devastated look on his face, "Baby, I'm sorry! Oh God, did I hurt you? Wait–" 

"It's fine– _Steve!_ " Bucky squeals when Steve scoops him up into his arms like he weighs nothing. 

"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to–" Bucky giggles and clings to him as Steve keeps apologising and carries him into the living room. "Here," He deposits Bucky gently on the couch and crouches next to him, reaching for his foot, "Let me see." 

"Steve, I'm okay." 

"I'm heavy, Bucky! I hurt you." Steve looks absolutely shattered, his pout too cute in comparison with the heartbreaking concern in his eyes. Bucky wants to _smother_ him. 

"Hey." He sits up and stops Steve from becoming an impromptu nurse, cups his face between his hands, tilts it up until the blond can't avoid looking in his eyes, "It's nothing, I promise. It doesn't even hurt." 

Okay, maybe it does a little bit, but that's the last thing Steve needs to know now. 

"Are you sure?" Blinking up at him with ocean eyes, Steve places his hands over Bucky's wrists and leans closer. Their noses boop and brush together, and Bucky smiles, makes sure Steve sees it and knows how he makes him feel. 

"Mhm." He hums before they meet halfway in another breathtaking kiss. 

He can feel how hard Steve tries to apologise with it. It's a soft, tender touch of lips, making Bucky tingle all over and his brain go fuzzy around the edges. 

Kissing Steve is really the best thing in the world. Whether it's chaste like this or heated and passionate like before. 

Which makes him realise he's still a little damp down there. Fuck. 

Apparently, Steve's brain chooses the same moment to remember what they've been doing earlier too, how he reacted, lost control and went all Alpha with Bucky. 

Bucky liked it, he fucking loved it, but it seems like it's not the same for Steve, and Bucky thinks he knows why.

The blond pulls away, inching further and further until Bucky can't feel the warmth of his body anymore, and looks at Bucky with naked panic etched in his expression. 

"Steve?" 

"Buck…" Steve's hands twitch like he wants to reach out, a heartbroken frown roughing up his pretty face. Bucky sees his eyes flick down to his neck where he knows there are marks scattered all over, "Oh, Bucky, I'm…" 

Bucky’s not having it. He can't let Steve think he did something bad by _wanting_ Bucky, can’t let him beat himself into a guilt trip because he just gave Bucky the best makeout session ever and didn’t ask for consent. Bucky consented very enthusiastically, thank you very much.

"Steve, it's okay." Bucky stands up and reaches for him, and his heart breaks a little when Steve takes a step back, shaking his head, "Steve, please, it's okay." 

The scent changes in the air, showing Steve's sudden distress and pain. It sends Bucky's brain in a frenzy, his body reacting immediately and emitting soothing pheromones. 

"No, no Buck, I–" Steve looks devastated, face white as a sheet and eyes wide in shock, "I shouldn't have– I'm sorry I-I got carried away–"

"Steve." When Bucky finally reaches him and takes his hands in his, Steve goes stiff as a rock, "You did nothing wrong, okay?" 

"But… I, after you– I…" 

"It's okay." Bringing Steve's wrist to his lips, Bucky kisses over the scent glands and rubs his cheek and neck over the skin, explicitly marking himself with Steve's scent, "It's okay when it's you." 

For a few long seconds they just stare at each other, and then a shaky sigh leaves Steve’s lips, his body finally allowing itself to relax and the tension to melt away. "Are you sure? I didn't hurt you right?" 

_This guy_ , Bucky thinks and giggles, draping Steve's arms around him and circling the blond’s neck with his own. "Of course you didn't." He says and leans on his tiptoes to press kisses over Steve's face. "I liked it. It was hot." 

The colour finally returns to Steve's cheeks, a blush tinting his fair skin at Bucky's confession. "Yeah?" His voice is deep again, husky and confident and it sends a shiver down Bucky's spine. 

"Yeah." 

Steve kisses him. He should expect it but it still takes him by surprise when Steve’s tongue breaches his lips. A sigh of blissed relief leaves his lungs, the mood finally lifting as they melt into each other. When they pull away, Steve is smiling at him softly, gently brushing Bucky's hair aside. 

"You need a shower though." Bucky jokes, and Steve laughs. It's addictive and bright and it warms Bucky from the inside out. 

"Aren't you a flatterer." Steve quips and pulls back, "I smell that bad?" 

Bucky chuckles and shrugs. "You were working out, Steve, don't expect to smell like strawberry fields." 

"Okay, okay, mister." Steve raises his hands in defense. "I'm gonna take a shower, just for you." 

"Ah, how kind and generous of you." Bucky bats his eyelashes dramatically and makes a mental note to make Steve smile like this again. Possibly all the time. 

"Can I kiss you one more time before I go?" 

Blushing, Bucky fights the urge to duck his head and shy away from Steve's enamored gaze. "You better." And Steve's eyes are already glued to Bucky’s lips before he even gets the whole sentence out.

Bucky's eyes flutter shut into the kiss, his stomach swooping stupidly as Steve towers over him. The height difference between them is really something, has Bucky leaning up on his tiptoes and craning his neck so that Steve can reach down for him. 

It doesn't make him feel intimidated. Steve could easily do it if he wanted to, but with Bucky he's always gentle, putting him at ease and comfort. He makes him feel small and cherished, cradled like a soft puppy in strong, protective arms, floating high in bliss every time their pillowy lips brush against each other. 

Bucky thinks Steve might be his happy place. 

When Steve pulls away and rests his forehead against Bucky's, there's an almost sad look on his face. 

"What's wrong?" He whispers and brushes his fingers through the baby hairs at the back of Steve's neck. 

A moment passes in silence, Bucky bracing himself for–

"You'll stay, right?" 

"What?" 

Steve swallows. "Will you still be here when I'm done?" 

And oh– oh God, Bucky's heart clenches like a vice in his chest. Steve thinks Bucky's gonna leave while he's showering? He thinks Bucky’s telling him to shower just so he can escape without even saying goodbye? What kind of dickhead would do that? 

Staring into Steve's pretty, hopeful eyes, Bucky smiles and kisses the cute bump on his nose. "Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I'm not going anywhere. I promise." 

Steve smiles so wide and bright he puts the sun to shame. And Bucky, he feels himself falling for him like a stray comet, but oddly, he's not scared, not as long as he knows Steve will catch him. 

Apparently his promise is enough to get Steve going. It's with visible reluctance that he peels away from Bucky and starts heading further into the apartment. "I'll be quick," He says "Make yourself at home." Before his amazing scent disappears with him down the hallway. 

Silently, Bucky wonders if Steve really trusts that he'll stay, but knowing him, there’s a too high possibility that he actually doesn’t. Whether Bucky decides to leave or stay, Steve won’t stop him, and Bucky doesn’t know why it hurts the way it does to think that Steve would do nothing if he changed his mind and went out through the door to never come back again.

Steve doesn’t want him to leave, and he especially doesn’t want him to go back home by himself, but he’d respect Bucky’s choice without a speck of protest. Bucky’s not his to keep after all, but right there, in that moment, he realises just how much he wants to be.

The thought strikes him like a bittersweet, electric epiphany, and he snaps out of it to find himself alone in the living room, the sound of a running shower distantly filling the apartment.

Well, it’s no time for daydreaming. 

Happily bouncing on his feet, Bucky finally takes his sweet time to explore Steve’s house.

The apartment is not that big -- at least it doesn’t look so -- with the living room and the kitchen blended together into a singular open space, two large windows pouring the cold winter light over every surface inside. 

A pair of grey couches perpendicular to one another sits in the middle of the living area, facing a white wall of exposed bricks on which a big TV lays hanging. The kitchen is equally nice, with a big island in the middle that makes it look like one of those fancy ass kitchens straight out of interior design magazines. 

Steve's apartment is nice. Very nice. The guy has some taste, assuming it's him who decorated the space, and everything is impossibly neat and clean. 

Taking a better look at the small details though, Bucky notices how there's absolutely nothing out of place. No rumpled rags on the dining room table, no trash laying around like unconscious little petroleum derivatives, no personal items scattered here and there like in any other person's house. 

This place, Bucky notes with a painful twist in his heart, doesn't look like someone lives in it. It's very pretty at first sight, but as one gets a deeper look into the little things, it's easy to conclude that Steve Rogers doesn't spend much time in here. Nor do other people. 

Steve must be so lonely, and Bucky feels a lump in his throat take his breath away for a few seconds. 

As he walks around and puts his nose here and there, Bucky takes note of the very few empty spots left on the walls. 

Where there aren't any paintings and sketches -- which, with no doubt, Steve must have made, some of them so beautiful Bucky struggles to think they are even real -- the other empty spaces are filled to the brim with bookshelves. 

It's actually shocking how many books there are just in the living area. Bucky doesn't even try to count them, instead gingerly tiptoes his way around and runs his finger over the different textures of all the book covers. 

There are many, and of many kinds. Bucky's eyes sweep over titles that go from English to languages he can't even read. Classic novels, sci-fi, romance, philosophical manuals, history books, foreign literature, entire rows of different encyclopedias on physics, biology, astronomy, music and art history. And that’s just what Bucky gets from the English titles.

Huh. Steve Rogers reads a lot then. He’s a little nerd, aw. Bucky’s gonna fall in love with this man, hard and fast. He’s so screwed.

After getting to know Steve's personal library, Bucky's feet tip tap quietly down the hallway. There's two doors on each side, and one at the far end of it, but only one is open. 

Bucky knows it's Steve's bedroom. From where he stands he can see the bed peeking out, but despite knowing that he shouldn't be snooping around and putting his nose in Steve's private spaces, he can't help but bounce a little in place from the thrill of– of getting caught? He doesn't know, and frankly he doesn't care, cause it doesn't matter anymore when his feet move on their own volition and carry him towards the bedroom. 

His hands twitch as soon as he comes to stand at the entrance. He’s a curious little shit, sue him, so what if he snoops a little? The shower is still running, so he has a minute or two to do his tour before Steve comes back. 

Heart thumping excitedly behind his ribcage, Bucky's bites his lip and steps inside. The room is so nice, with an entire wall covered in bookshelves and an enormous bed with navy blue sheets and black pillows and it looks so soft and inviting. Bucky has to test it out. For science. 

Fighting the urge to just jump and land on the mattress, Bucky picks one spot to sit on, bounces once, twice, then throws himself back and giggles like an idiot because this, this motherfucking bed is the softest and fluffiest cloud he has ever laid a finger on. 

Bucky loves it. Especially because it smells so much like Steve, soaked in his addictive scent. Bucky deliberately buries his face into Steve's pillow and breathes him in as if he can gather his scent -- pine and musk with a note of dark chocolate -- and secure it forever inside and around him like a protective, happy bubble. 

He emerges a small eternity later, cheeks hot and stomach all swoopy and fluttery, and rises up to his feet to look at the stuff on Steve's nightstand. 

There’s a lone sock lying unconscious on the floor by the piece of furniture, and Bucky laughs quietly, shaking his head at the only slip in Steve's military neatness. That little sock out of place is so cute for some inexplicable reason. 

An old-fashioned alarm clock sits by an equally old-fashioned looking watch on the nightstand. There's a black notebook by its side, a brown covered book laying underneath it. Bucky runs his finger over the hard cover of it and takes it out, bypassing the notebook -- come on he's not _that_ nosy to go looking through someone's diary -- and picks the book in his hands, curiously examining it. 

_Albert Camus_

_LA PESTE_

Interesting. Bucky's never heard of it, so he carefully opens it and flips the pages, only to find that they're completely unintelligible. What the fuck. That's not English. It's... French? Bucky thinks it is. 

Steve reads French novels? Just like that? Eats them up like they're sweet little candies, slurps all those vowels and nasal tones without choking on them? 

Jesus, Steve is a cultured man. And culture is sexy as fuck, damn it. Now Bucky has to will down his intellectual boner before–

"Find something you like?" 

Bucky drops the book. 

" _Fuck!_ " He hisses, scrambling to pick it up with shaky hands and an embarrassing blush that feels hot like lava. "Sorry! I'm– I didn't mean to– I swear I wasn't sn–" 

Holy shit. Mamma mia. Jesus, Joseph and Mary. 

"–ooping." Bucky drops the book again. 

Steve is… wet. Steve has only a towel around his illegally tiny waist. Steve is almost _naked._

Fuck, what does he do. Steve is standing there, waiting for an explanation with his stupid sexy aura. Bucky thinks he hears a distant voice in his head calling for help to save his poor, combusted brain -- something along the lines of _'Houston, we've had a problem'_ going on repeat -- but his body is not responding. It's totally frozen in place, like a deer in headlights, face so flushed it's probably fuming, and wide eyes staring at the Greek God in front of him. 

Steve is impossible. He can't be real. He looks like an absolute Adonis. His muscles have _muscles_. His abs are an actual washboard -- Bucky knows there's six of them, but he has to count them three times because his vision keeps getting blurry from the rush of blood directed to the pool party downstairs. 

Oh God. He needs to get his shit together. Get out of here, stop staring and drooling like a dog. 

"I– I um… _guh,_ I didn't mean to– to–" 

"It's alright." Steve chuckles, and Bucky's eyes finally snap to his face. Was he really staring only at his body all this time? Way to go Barnes, way to go. "I don't mind, told you to make yourself at home. Are you okay?" 

No. Yes. Maybe. What is okay. 

"Yuh-uh." He squeaks, blushing like a Red Giant star at the way Steve is smirking knowingly at him. 

The bastard, he knows what he's doing to Bucky, and as if on cue, Steve does something with his biceps that makes them come to life and okay. Yep. Bucky has to get out of here before he climbs Steve like a tree and covers him with his own saliva in appreciation. 

"I'm– I'll be out." Bucky blurts and runs out so fast he almost crashes into a wall. 

His heart is going at it like the drummer of some heavy metal band by the time Bucky makes it back to the living room, breaths short and face red like a lobster as he stands there not knowing what to do with himself.

This is probably the stupidest thing Bucky’s ever done in his life. It even beats that time he got shitfaced and set Quill’s lightsaber on fire, slurring, “A real lightsaber won’t burrrn you dum’ass!” With a lighter in hand and tequila flowing through his veins. Bucky still vaguely remembers the fire alarm in the dorms going on and Peter's lightsaber, made of poor, innocent plastic, melting on the floor while his roommate was screaming drunk tears into his pillow. 

But at least he was _drunk_ that time. Now Bucky's sober, and he's supposed to be acting like an adult that knows how to respect someone's boundaries and can control his hormones when his crush appears half naked looking like a snack. 

Oh God, he's a living embarrassment. 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! You absolute tit!_ he repeats in his head and considers running out of the door and taking a one way flight to NZ and never coming back again. 

Steve is gonna think he's a nosy asshole that pries through people's stuff without even asking permission. That's a horrible reputation to have, and right now Bucky's wearing it smacked in capital letters on his forehead. 

With a deep, steading breath, Bucky heads for the kitchen and quickly finds a glass in one of the cabinets, before he fills it with water and drinks it down in two big gulps, hoping it will extinguish the fire pooling in his belly. 

It does help him cool down a little, brain coming back online as the reality of what just happened settles in like a pin poking at a fresh cut. Grimacing, Bucky scrunches his nose and leans against the counter, bracing himself on his arms. 

He doesn't hear the sound of footsteps behind him until a body suddenly presses against his back, Steve's strong arms wrapping around Bucky's waist and his face nuzzling the spot under his ear. Bucky doesn't yelp, but the sound he lets out is a close thing. 

"You okay?" Steve murmurs and runs his nose against the skin of Bucky's neck, raising little crowds of shivers on the way. Steve's scent is close now, wrapping around him like a warm blanket, and Bucky lets out a shaky sigh and forgets why he was freaking out in the first place. 

"Yeah…" He says, grinning like an idiot and leaning his head back against Steve's shoulder with his eyes closed. The butterflies are in full swing again in his belly, and he feels his breaths coming out shorter as Steve kisses his neck and runs his hands over his middle. 

"You didn't smell happy when I came here." Steve's thumbs dip beneath his sweatshirt, and Bucky impulsively tightens his grip on the blond’s forearms. 

"I–" Bucky squeezes his eyes shut and swallows. "I was– sorry for snooping through your stuff without asking and… embarrassed…" 

"It's okay, sweetheart." Steve whispers against his ear and Bucky's breath hitches. "That's it though? You sure you're okay? I want you to be happy." 

God, he needs to stop being so perfect. Bucky responds with a lovesick smile and turns his head to smash his lips against Steve's. 

The Alpha grunts in surprise and tightens his hold on Bucky, pulls him back closer to his body and when his tongue pushes between his lips, asking for entrance, Bucky lets his mouth open slack in surrender with a shocked little whimper.

He likes all this control Steve has, gentleness and power coming together in a single, perfect package, and Bucky silently wonders how did he get so lucky.

Steve’s hands keep roaming, they sneak under Bucky's sweatshirt and caress burning skin, caress his hips, his belly and ribs, and Bucky’s positively sure he’ll set on fire in the next thirteen seconds. Heart thundering in his chest as Steve sucks marks on his neck, Bucky’s mouth parts in a silent moan when he feels slick starting to drip between his cheeks.

Steve must instantly smell it, judging by the moan he lets out and the way he pulls Bucky tighter against his front, and oh God, Bucky _feels_ it. He feels Steve’s hard cock poking at the small of his back, feels the scent of turned on Alpha trigger his own arousal like a switch lighting up fireworks under his skin. It’s getting hot, and Bucky instinctively rubs his thighs together to try to relieve some of the pressure building in his core and between his legs.

“Steve.” He whimpers Steve’s name when the blond grinds against Bucky’s ass and strokes his hands over his lower belly. Bucky’s so wet and hard it’s driving him crazy, short, hitchy breaths coming out in pants as his body melts under the stimulation.

“Tell me, baby.” Steve’s voice feels like gravel and honey at the same time, “Tell me you want this.” He finishes with a nip to Bucky’s ear and Bucky’s knees give out as if they’re made of jelly.

“Yes, I want it…” He pleads, hands scrambling to grip at Steve’s arms, his own hair, fuck, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know what he wants, brain and body solely focused on the need to be touched, to have _Steve_ touch him and make him feel good. “W-want you Steve. Please I need–”

“What do you need, baby?” Steve growls, pushing Bucky’s body back against his own and rolling his hips against his bottom. “Just tell me and I’ll give you anything you need, Bucky.”

Bucky moans, high-pitched and needy it’s embarrassing, face burning with the shame of what he’s about to say. “Steve… need you– please, touch me! Please I need you to touch me.”

Steve’s hands roam higher and higher until they're groping Bucky’s chest. “Where do you need me, sweetheart?” His fingers skim over Bucky’s pert nipples, the touch sending a zing of pleasure directly down to Bucky’s dick. “Need me to touch you here?”

It’s distracting. Bucy’s brain has to scramble to get a grip on a coherent thought and not just babble nonsensical pleas. “Need you–” His throat clicks audibly when he swallows, blushing and trembling in Steve’s arms. “Between m-my legs! Please I need–”

“ _Oh fuck_.” Steve groans, sounding both wrecked and relieved. “Yeah, baby?” He teases as his hand moves lower, lower until it gently cups Bucky’s cock through his jeans. “Right here?”

“ _Oh!_ Steve…” Slick gushes out of him at the stimulation on his dick, “Oh God, yes, yes please.”

His body feels like it’s on fire, molten lava running through his veins as Steve keeps up with his sweet torture. Bucky’s barely aware of the needy little sounds he’s making, all of him focused on Steve’s words, his hands and lips where they touch him, his intoxicating scent to which his body responds like it’s on command.

“There you go, doll.” Steve murmurs, an amused smile in his tone, and then his other hand sneaks between their bodies, sliding lower until it’s on Bucky’s ass. “Need me a little bit here too? Hm?” He punctuates with a kiss to Bucky’s cheek and a press of his fingers right where Bucky’s dripping wet, and oh God, now that he’s said it Bucky can’t think about anything else but how much he needs to be touched there too.

Words get stuck in his throat, brain going a little bit offline right then and there because that– Bucky’s never done that. He’s never had anyone touch him _there_ , where he’s the most vulnerable and tender, never went past a couple handjobs and blowjobs over the past few years with random flings. But this is Steve… and Bucky doesn’t know what it is that’s so different about him, what makes him trust him and want things he’s never wanted with anyone before.

“Please.” He squirms a little, blushing and whimpering as Steve strokes him through his pants from both sides. “Oh, Steve, please, I– yes I–”

Steve grabs his chin to turn his head and kisses him, hard and passionate like he owns him, thrusts his tongue inside Bucky’s mouth and claims him a little bit there too, making him moan and writhe in his impossibly strong hold.

Bucky doesn’t really remember how they end up on the floor, Steve sitting with his back to the kitchen cabinets and Bucky straddling his lap. It happens in a blur, Bucky’s brain already stupid and mushy by the time they’re making out again, and he whimpers when Steve’s big hands settle on his ass and squeeze, pushing and pulling until he coaxes Bucky to grind against him in a fithy roll of hips.

He can see Steve’s face now, can see the way his pupils are almost black and his skin is covered in a pretty flush. And fuck, he can see and feel Steve's cock tenting his sweatpants, and Bucky hasn’t even looked at it properly and already knows that it must be pretty huge.

It feels hot and hard between Bucky’s legs every time he grinds against it, and it makes him squirm and whimper, the knowledge of having Steve’s cock there, rubbing against his own and all that wetness that he produced. 

Bucky wants to see it, wants to touch it and make Steve feel good just like he’s making _him_ feel good, so he fumbles with shaking hands and palms Steve’s dick through the soft fabric, and the moan they both let out is embarrassing and desperate, but Bucky doesn’t care.

“Steve.” His fingers tug at the waistband until Steve gets the memo and lifts his hips. He lifts his hips with both his own and Bucky's weight to sustain, and the unnecessary display of strength makes Bucky hot all over, hotter than he already is. "Oh." Bucky gulps, eyes widening when Steve's cock springs free, bounces a little and slaps against his abs, "Oh fuck." 

It's… big. Big and gorgeous. Bucky doesn't think he ever called someone's dick gorgeous, but Steve's is just perfect. Mouthwatering. It's uncut, long and thick, curving beautifully at the tip where it's shiny with precome. Bucky's never wanted to have something in his mouth so bad. 

"Bucky." Steve sounds strangled, and when Bucky looks up his breath gets caught in his throat. Steve is looking at him like– like he wants to eat him alive, but he's making no move, waiting for Bucky to do something with hungry and pleading eyes. 

Bucky kisses him, bites at Steve's lips and wraps his hand around his cock. Steve whines, hips twitching as Bucky strokes him with slow, experimental movements. He's so big, Bucky's hand struggles to wrap around him completely where he's the thickest, and just– just the thought of having that inside him–

"Ah, Steve." He squirms, pressing down against Steve's thigh to relieve some pressure that's building like crazy. "Do something."

Steve's hands make quick work of unbuttoning Bucky's pants and shoving them down his thighs, his underwear immediately suffering the same fate and then he's there, straddling Steve with his jeans shoved down, exposed and hard and wet, whining as they kiss the hell out of each other. 

"Oh, baby." 

Bucky moans when Steve takes his cock in hand, the touch sending a wave of heat through Bucky's belly and he feels his slick hole flutter, ready to be filled by natural instinct. A shudder shakes him from head to toe when Steve's lips move to his neck, and he can't do anything to stop the noises pouring from his mouth now that it's left unoccupied. 

Steve's other hand reaches between his cheeks, parting them and finding his target, two fingers rubbing circles over his hole and the touch makes Bucky's eyes roll into the back of his skull. 

"Steve! Oh!" His moan is loud and uncontained, his hold on Steve's dick tightening as the sensitive skin of his rim finally gets stimulated. Bucky's heart is banging in his ears, his other hand gripping Steve's hair as the blond kisses on him.

"I know, baby." Steve groans, his fingers still massaging Bucky's hole but never going past the ring of muscle, and Bucky wants to go crazy, wants to beg him to put them inside but words are completely failing him. 

"St– oh fuck!" Bucky jolts when the hand on his dick does a little something that makes him see stars. "Steve, please I need–" 

"Shh, I know." And then Steve's finger dips inside, slowly pushes in and punches a long, loud moan out of Bucky. "There you are, sweetheart. That's what you needed?" 

Oh God, Steve needs to shut up or Bucky's gonna explode. Bucky whimpers when Steve adds another finger, the slick making the slide easy and smooth and wonderful. He's never felt it this way. His fingers can only do much, and it's always a bad angle for Bucky when he fingers himself, but Steve knows what he's doing. 

His fingers are longer and thicker than Bucky's, filling him up so nice and good it has Bucky shaking. His cock is leaking and his thighs are trembling with the effort of holding himself up, needy little moans and gasps leaving his mouth non stop as Steve fingers him and jacks him off while murmuring sweet words against his ear. Bucky's own hand is losing rhythm on Steve's cock, the sensations clashing together and distracting him until he knows nothing but the knot tightening in his core. 

He's gonna come embarrassingly soon, he can feel the orgasm building and swelling and–

"Fuck! Fuck! Steve, oh my God!" Bucky jolts and they both moan when Steve finds his sweet spot, and then it's like it's his only goal to watch Bucky come undone in front of his eyes. 

Steve groans, speeding his hand on Bucky's cock and mercilessly rubbing Bucky's prostate, alternating between hard jabs and gentle strokes. "Yeah there it is, baby, look at you." 

Bucky's moaning like a porn star, thighs quivering and chest heaving as his climax gets closer and closer. The hand holding Steve's dick has now joined the other in gripping the Alpha's shirt like it's a lifeline, like it's gonna save him from falling completely apart. 

"I'm– I'm gonna, Steve, oh God!" Bucky's lower abdomen is clenching and unclenching with every wave of pleasure sweeping through him, his hole fluttering around Steve's fingers and dripping wet. 

"Come for me, baby, come on." Steve murmurs, voice gentle and sweet in blinding contrast to the way he's bringing Bucky over the edge. "Just let go, Bucky, let it out, come on." 

And then his lips find Bucky's neck again, and Bucky's completely done for. He comes with a gasp, falling over the edge with a litany of breathy _'ah, ah, ah'_ mixed with nonsense and Steve's name. His eyes roll in the back of his head as he rides the wave of pleasure, pulsing around Steve's fingers and in his hand as it washes over him. He feels like someone just drained the life out of him, vision black and heart racing until he comes back to his senses, melting and trembling when he slumps in Steve's arms like a fucked out sack of potatoes. 

Panting, Bucky can't help a stupid little smile from crossing his face as he comes back down to planet Earth. Wow that sure was… the best orgasm he's ever had. Pulling his face back from where it was tucked in Steve's neck, Bucky's eyes stall when he sees Steve's shirt covered with his transparent release, sees the blond’s dick still hard and leaking against his belly and he can't help but flush a deep red. 

He's about to say something, but before he can do anything Steve pulls him in for a kiss and moans against Bucky's mouth. 

Bucky shows some mercy and takes Steve in his hand again, starts kissing and nibbling over the blond’s jaw and neck while he strokes him as best as he can, relishing in the beautiful groans and gasps it pulls out of Steve. 

"Buck– oh I–" Is the last thing Steve says before his mouth parts in a silent moan, and his cock swells and jerks in Bucky's hand, his knot suddenly expanding in his fist, spilling ropes of come between them. 

Steve moans lowly, and Bucky watches him mesmerised as his orgasm shakes him, his pretty face scrunched in something complicated and overwhelmed and Bucky thinks he's never seen something so beautiful.

Steve's knot is fat and swollen, and Bucky moans as he squeezes it with both hands, trying to provide the best pleasure and relief to Steve. The erotic sounds Steve keeps making ignite something fierce and desperate in Bucky. He watches the Alpha's cock in his hands with wide, hungry eyes, and it's a sight to behold, it makes him weak at the knees. 

They quietly bask in the afterglow, pressed close together in a soothing embrace until their breaths come back to normal and it doesn't feel like their hearts are about to jump out of their chests. 

Bucky pulls away first when Steve's knot goes down, just a bit to look into Steve's blue eyes and smile timidly at him. "Hi." He whispers, booping their noses together and earning a giggle from Steve.

"Hey." Steve's eyes crinkle at the edges, "You feeling good?" 

Good? Bucky's feeling fucking fantastic, after the best orgasm of his whole life. 

"Amazing." He says, before they meet halfway in a sweet, chaste kiss. His stomach swoops like he's on a rollercoaster, and Bucky really hopes he never gets used to it. 

Bucky knows it's always a little awkward after moments like these, but thankfully he has the change of topic ready on his tongue. "Why do you have so many books?"

Steve shrugs and absentmindedly strokes Bucky's sides, tickling him. "I like reading. And I have something like seventy years of literature and history to catch up with." 

Right. It must have been disorienting for Steve to wake up in a world and not know half of the things that happened in between. 

Brushing Steve's messy bangs aside, Bucky leans in and presses a sweet, soothing kiss to his forehead. "You didn't tell me you know French." He teases when he pulls back, watching Steve's expression go from one of surprise to realisation and then amusement. 

Steve gives him a sweet, coy smile. “I know a lot of things, _chéri_.” He says, reaching up to brush a lock of hair behind Bucky's ear. 

" _Tu es si mignon, trésor_." Steve murmurs, never looking away from Bucky's eyes, and even though it's in French and he doesn't understand anything of what Steve's saying, Bucky thinks it might be something sweet and sappy judging by the adoring tone in Steve's voice. 

"I have no idea what you're saying." He giggles, blushing and averting his gaze when Steve just keeps talking. 

" _Tu n'as pas idée de l'effet que tu me fais_ ." And his voice is hushed and quiet, as if he's telling a secret no one is supposed to know. " _Je te veux pour moi, juste pour moi, entièrement à moi. Je peux te garder, trésor ? Hm ? Tu voudrais n'être qu'à moi ?_ " 

"Stop it!" Bucky whines, but can't help the grin from stretching his lips. "What does it mean?" 

Chuckling, Steve shakes his head and kisses him one last time on the cheek. "That we should get cleaned up." He says, and doesn't give Bucky time to protest when he stands on his feet without even setting Bucky down. 

Bucky yelps and clings to him, chuckling and burying his face in Steve's neck, inhaling his happy scent and letting Steve carry him wherever he wants, he doesn't really care where, because as long as he's with him, Bucky's the happiest man alive. 

* * *

As the door closes behind his back, Bucky inhales deeply and lifts his head to find Sam looking at him from the couch. 

He's buzzing with nerves and jitters, but he knows this needs to be done. For the sake of them both. It's now or never. 

"Sam." He says, relieved when his best friend doesn't leave for his bedroom like the other times. "We need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written smut in ages and it shows... but hopefully in a good way.
> 
> Thanks to [profoundalpacakitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/profoundalpacakitten) for the French translations!
> 
> "Tu es si mignon, trésor." = "You're so beautiful, treasure." 
> 
> "Tu n'as pas idée de l'effet que tu me fais." = "You have no idea of the effect you have on me." 
> 
> "Je te veux pour moi, juste pour moi, entièrement à moi. Je peux te garder, trésor ? Hm ? Tu voudrais n'être qu'à moi ?" = "I want you for me, only for me, entirely for me. Can I keep you treasure? Hm? Would you like to be only mine?"
> 
> Let me know what you think! ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://dreadlockholiday.tumblr.com/)


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